Theories and Backstory and Head-Canons, Oh My!
by Sarcasticles
Summary: A collection of missing moments, implied motivations, and little bits and pieces that aren't in the manga, but just make sense. T blanket. Currently accepting prompts. Chapter 10: Everyone has their quirks
1. And A Hufflepuff Shall Lead Them

**AN** : So…instead of finishing the gazillion things I've already working on, I'm starting something new. Go figure. But unlike my other projects, when, how often, and what I write will be dependent on you, the reader.

Yes, that's right. Sarcasticles is taking requests. The idea is that you guys will push me to expand my horizons a little, and hopefully have a little bit of fun along the way. But first, some ground rules:

1\. I'm looking specifically to write about different head-canons people have regarding the series, as in little quirks, idiosyncrasies, and bits of backstory that are never confirmed nor denied by Oda, things that will likely never be relevant but you still hold to with the fire of a thousand suns. More traditional prompts are great and all, but will most likely be ignored.

2\. No romance. There are precious few ships I care about, and there's enough badly written love stories out there without me adding my two cents. Exceptions will be made for canon ships and things that can be interpreted as friendship, but please keep in mind the T rating before asking for something.

3\. AU and crossovers are okay, but I have to be familiar with the other work, and I am woefully behind on pop culture these days.

4\. Nothing is too obscure or goofy. I have an entire head-canon regarding a character who is shown in exactly in one panel and was only named in a databook. If there's something serious you want me to write, ask. If there's something funny, ask and I'll try not to mess it up too badly. The worst I can say is no. Again, this is a way for me to expand how I think about the characters and stretch my writing muscles.

5\. If you leave a request in a review, please also take the time to write out some sort of critique. Artificially inflated review counts annoy me. Another option is just to PM me directly with your idea.

6\. Be polite. This should go without saying, but then again, so should a lot of things. I hold the last say over what prompts I accept and the timetable with which I write them. Rudeness and pestering will cause me to ignore you completely.

That's all for now. Thanks for reading through that ridiculously long note, and without further ado, here's chapter one!

* * *

 **Head-canon** **:** Luffy is a Hufflepuff (found floating around on TvTropes), plus the Houses of the rest of the Straw Hats (courtesy of yours truly)

* * *

The Great Hall was quiet as the seconds ticked by and the petulant boy sat impatiently under the brim of the old, black hat. From dais where the professors sat an old man with a wild head of curly dark hair checked his watch. Five minutes and counting. It was the longest Hatstall he'd heard of this decade, and certainly the longest he'd been physically present for. It brought to mind names like Minerva McGonagall and Filius Flitwick, and the professor couldn't help but chuckle. If this boy was anything like the other members of his family, it was no wonder the Sorting Hat was having a difficult time of it.

"What's so funny, Brook?" one of his colleagues asked.

"Yohoho, it's nothing. Just remembering my own sorting, that's all," Professor Brook said.

"Don't we all at this time of year?" the other said, before returning his eyes to where the boy was now picking his nose in boredom.

xxx

 _'What's this, eh? Music? Not the usual sort of pursuit for a wizard, is it?'_

It's what I like _, Brook thought as hard as he could. He knew that most people thought it was stupid, but he didn't care. He loved the violin and piano, and would have liked nothing more than to pursue his musical studies at home._

 _'No need to shout,' the Sorting Hat said, somewhat grouchily. 'I spend three-quarters of the year writing one song. If my makers had half your talent, I'd get it done before Christmas. But despite your cleverness, I don't think Ravenclaw would suit you. No, with a heart like that it's best to go…'_

 _"HUFFLEPUFF!"_

xxx

Seated amongst the usual group of seventh-year troublemakers, Franky had to snort when the little pipsqueak taking forever to get Sorted complained loudly that the whole process was taking too long and that he was hungry. With a mouth like that he was Gryffindor material for sure.

"Hey, boss, what do you think?" Kiwi snickered. "Kid's got guts talking to the Hat like that. Think he's got any potential?"

"Too soon to tell, but if he takes much longer we may have to rustle his jimmies on principle. There wasn't any damn cola on the train, and it'd be especially unsuper to die of dehydration before I got any chance to cause any trouble."

The members of the so-called Franky Family laughed, but their leader didn't pay much attention. He was too busy sizing up the little firstie who couldn't decide what House he wanted to be in. He couldn't figure it out, but there was something about the kid reminiscing of himself at that age.

xxx

 _'Well. This was unexpected.'_

 _"What do you mean, you dumb hat?"_

 _The professor in charge of the Sorting gave Franky a warning glare, which he promptly ignored. Whoever heard of something so ridiculous as choosing a person's House by a frikking_ Hat? _Of all the barmy, random,_ old-fashioned _ways to pick…_

 _'I can hear you, you know,' the Hat reminded him. 'I think we can rule out Slytherin. Ambition aside, you've not got the guile.'_

Are you making fun of me? _Franky asked incredulously._

 _'Not at all.' His tone was unconvincing, and he quickly changed the subject. 'Let's see here…good mind._ Surprisingly _good mind, with more than enough bravado to spare. Driven to prove yourself, yet loyal. Interesting. You're not one to let anyone forget your name, are you?'_

 _"Damn straight," Franky said through grit teeth._

 _'Well that settles that. Seems to me that you're a…'_

 _"GRYFFINDOR!"_

xxx

Having lost interest in the proceedings long before Monkey D. Luffy came to the stool to be sorted, Robin Nico was drawn from her book as her classmates began to murmur to themselves loudly enough that she could no longer concentrate. In their excitement someone accidentally bumped her with their elbow, and her first reaction was to reach for her wand.

"Watch it, Mudblood," Spandam sneered. He adjusted his silver prefect badge so that it was in an even more obvious position on his chest. "Or you'll be the first student in history to lose House points before the year's even begun!"

Robin closed her eyes and resisted the urge to inform him that, technically speaking, the school year started the moment they arrived to Hogwarts, and in 1574 an unfortunate student by the name of Maximillian Truffet had the misfortune of losing fifty points for Hufflepuff during the middle of summer vacation, so he was wrong on both accounts, thank you very much.

Of course, it did no good to argue with power-hungry prefects, and life was difficult enough without getting on Spandam's bad side before the Welcoming Feast.

With a wistful sigh, she gazed enviously at the first year that had everyone in such a titter. If she had a chance of doing it all again, could things have turned out differently? Would she still have gone through her school years alone and miserable and friendless?

There was no way of telling, and it did no good to dwell on it. Ignoring her surroundings, Robin resumed her reading.

xxx

 _'There's no need to be afraid. Your secrets are safe with me.'_

 _The Hat's voice was gentle, almost kind, but Robin couldn't bring herself to believe it. At the end of the day it was nothing more than a magical artifact, a created tool with no real agency of its own. With the right resources it could be tampered with, taken apart, or even destroyed. That was simply one of the facts of life._

Please, let's just get this over with _, Robin said, squeezing her eyes closed to keep the bad memories away, memories that she knew were now being picked apart and analyzed against her will._

 _'Of course. Three years ago I would have sent you to Ravenclaw, no questions asked. Your mind…it really is quite spectacular. But you don't want knowledge for knowledge's sake. Not anymore.'_

 _Robin's stomach clenched, and she had to fight the urge to cry._

 _'You're willing to go to any lengths to find what you're looking for,' the Hat mused. 'In Slytherin you could find friends that would help you achieve greatness.'_

 _Greatness she could do without, but Robin would have done anything for a friend. The Sorting Hat sensed her agreement, and the rip along its brim opened wide to bellow out,_

 _"SLYTHERIN!"_

xxx

Tony Chopper was more concerned with not getting squished than the Hatstall. After being Sorted he'd somehow gotten seated between two burly seventh years that were almost twice his size. He was afraid that if he so much as twitched he'd be smashed flat, but he was more afraid of saying something and getting noticed.

Thankfully someone else spoke for him.

"Hey, Roux, scoot down a little bit and let the kid breathe," the long-haired boy seated to his right drawled as he watched the spectacle that developing in front of them. The seventh year looked so utterly confident in his own body, and Chopper felt a pang of jealousy.

"Sorry Benn! Didn't see him there!" Roux moved down a few inches. "And sorry to you, too. What did you say your name was?"

All attention was now on Chopper, and he almost felt like hyperventilating. "Ch-Chopper. My name is Tony Chopper."

"Glad to meet you," Roux said with a grin that threatened to split his face in two. "And welcome to Hogwarts."

xxx

 _'Hmm.'_

 _Chopper didn't know what_ "hmm" _meant. Everyone was watching him, seeing first-hand how pale and peaky he was during the week of the waning gibbous. He was lucky that the transformation had occurred just before he was scheduled to go to Hogwarts, but his luck would last him less than a month. Healer Kureha was convinced no one would find out about his…problem…but they'd thought that in the past and been wrong. Even the development of the Wolf's Bane potion did little to ease the stigma he'd been faced with his whole life, and he was so afraid he didn't even know how to put his fear into words._

 _But with the Sorting Hat, he didn't have to. 'Not Gryffindor, although if I had hands I would applaud your courage to come to school with your condition. Nor Slytherin, I think. Your dream of finding a cure is ambitious enough, but I sense a certain lack of…astuteness.'_

What? _Chopper asked._

 _'Salazar's House is no home to the gullible,' the Hat said cryptically. 'Helga always was one to take in outsiders, but in this case I believe Rowena herself would have chosen you as one of her own.'_

Um, what? _Chopper asked again._

 _"RAVENCLAW!"_

xxx

Sanji sat sullenly at his seat, drumming his fingers against the table as he waited for the moment he found out whether or not food at Hogwarts was all that it was cracked up to be. His day had taken a turn for the shitty, and he wasn't sure even the famed Welcoming Feast could help.

"Why the long face?" a boy a few years older than him asked. Sanji spared him half a glance, and had to sneer at his fashion sense. Underneath the customary black robes he wore a pastel blue shirt and hot-pink tie that clashed horribly with the makeup on his face. It was quite possibly the gayest thing he'd ever seen, and he turned his back moodily.

"I can't believe I got Sorted into this shitty House."

The other boy was silent for a moment. "You aren't the first to be disappointed," he began slowly, "but, forgive me for being so blunt, I think you're putting too much into appearances and reputation. Think about the traits of our House: hard work, diligence, loyalty. It is an honor to be described as such, truly it is."

Sanji bit back a caustic remark and slumped in his seat. "Yeah, I guess."

"That's the spirit!" The boy extended his hand and a freakishly enthusiastic smile spread across his face, threatening to blind whoever looked at it directly. "Name's Betham."

"Sanji," he replied, pointedly ignoring the extended hand. He may have been stuck in the shittiest of Houses, but damn him where he stood if he was going to look like a dork on the first day of school. "Pleased to meet you."

xxx

 _'Aha. I think I have it.'_

 _Sanji sat up a little straighter on the stool, proudly waiting to be declared a Gryffindor, or maybe a Ravenclaw. Precious few eleven year olds had endured the hell he had and lived to tell the tale, and if that didn't count as brave, he didn't know what did._

 _'Not so fast,' the Sorting Hat said. 'You've courage, certainly you have courage, but I think your loyalty and dedication to hard work deserves consideration. Gryffindor's tend to be a proud lot, but you…"_

 _The shitty Hat's voice trailed off, and Sanji grit his teeth. "What?" he said, forgetting for a moment that he didn't need to speak out loud for the Sorting Hat to understand._

What? _Sanji repeated, leering into a knot of snickering Ravenclaws that had heard faux pas._

 _'I think we both know how you see yourself,' the Hat said. 'There are those who sacrifice solely to bolster their own reputations, and those whose sacrifice is devoid of recklessness and showboating. No, it's clear to me you're a…'_

 _"HUFFLEPUFF!"_

xxx

" _Come on_ ," Usopp whispered to himself as the Sorting Hat continued to deliberate on Luffy's placement. He hadn't realized until the Sorting began how much he wanted them to be in the same House. Oh the fun they'd get into! Usopp could imagine all the brilliant capers he'd be able to pull off with the scraggly youth by his side, plus he'd said something on the train about knowing Usopp's dad. Everyone knew that people in different Houses couldn't be friends, and Usopp desperately wanted to let Luffy fill one of the vacancies left by his friends back home.

"Come on, come on, _come on_ ," Usopp repeated, impatiently tapping his foot as he did so. This had no apparent effect on the Sorting Hat, and only seemed to annoy the boy sitting next to him.

"Do you know him?" the green-haired boy asked. His arms were crossed in apparent disinterest, but Usopp could tell he was as curious as the rest of them.

"Not really," Usopp said, momentarily forgetting he was talking to a really buff, scary-looking dude who could probably curse him with the power of his glare alone. Now that he thought about it, the green hair was probably an indication of a basilisk ancestor. Best to tread lightly. "We met on the train."

The boy snorted. "Yeah, me to." When he didn't elaborate, Usopp forced himself to lean back and try to play it cool, although he couldn't have felt antsier if he were sitting on a hill of actual ants.

They had to be in the same House. Usopp didn't know what he would do if they weren't.

xxx

Not Hufflepuff _, Usopp begged the moment the Sorting Hat touched the crown of his head._ Please, I'll do anything, just don't put me in Hufflepuff.

 _'Nervous, are we?' the Hat asked. Usopp could have sworn he sounded amused. 'Never fear, you are many things, but a Hufflepuff is not one of them.'_

Oh. Good.

 _'You, a Hufflepuff. The very thought,' the Sorting Hat chortled to himself._

Hey! I could be a great Hufflepuff! _Usopp thought defensively_. It's just…I don't want to be.

 _'No, you're_ afraid _to be. You want to be noticed. Appreciated. Looked up to. You're afraid of falling into anonymity, or worse, ridicule. Well, you needn't have worked yourself into such a state, because as a rule Hufflepuff is known for its honesty. Which you aren't,' the Hat said, adding insult to injury. 'But Slytherin…'_

NOT SLYTHERIN, _Usopp shouted inside his own head, interrupting the irritating Hat mid-thought._ Slytherin's worse than Hufflepuff! They're full of Dark wizards and bigoted Purebloods. I'm allergic to Slytherins. If I even go near one I'll get sick and die!

 _As Usopp's rant wound down, he got the distinct impression that the Sorting Hat was laughing at him. 'Well then. It seems like you have something in mind. Go on, say it. What House do_ you _think you should be placed in?'_

 _Usopp squirmed in his seat. He knew he wasn't smart enough for Ravenclaw nor evil enough to be a snake. Deep, deep,_ deep _inside he knew he was a small, insignificant Hufflepuff. But he could never be honest with himself enough to admit it out loud._

 _'Sometimes,' the Sorting Hat said, almost sympathetically, 'a wizard is Sorted based on what he wants to become, not what he is at that moment. They need only be brave enough to ask.'_

I-I want… _Usopp almost faltered, but taking a steading breath he gathered ever tiny scrap of courage he could find._ I want to be a Gryffindor.

 _He could feel the Hat smiling at him, which to be honest was kind of a freaky sensation. 'There are those born with courage to spare, and there are those who must find it within themselves in difficult situations. Personally, I find the latter to be the more valiant sort. Very well, if that's what you want…'_

 _"GRIFFINDOR!"_

xxx

Nami took a break from staring at the weirdo who seemed to have broken the Sorting Hat to size up her new classmates. The vast majority wore tailor-fit robes and shiny new shoes in the latest style, and for a moment she felt self-conscious in her second-hand clothes and hand-me-down wand.

She quickly quashed that feeling. She was just as worthy of her seat as they were, and based on the little she'd overheard more talented than a few of them. They underestimated her at their own risk.

Aside from one upper year with her nose stuck in a book, her House seemed focused on Monkey D Luffy. Nami almost told the kid sitting next to her that she'd met him at the train station, and, trust her, he was no threat, but at the last minute she snapped her mouth closed. Knowledge was power. It was good to stay in the habit of keeping things for herself, that way she'd be in practice when something truly important came along.

Besides, there was something different about Monkey D Luffy. He was as thick as they came, but his eyes…there was a sharpness to them that put Nami on guard.

Feigning nonchalance, Nami settled back in her seat and continued to take inventory of the situation through hooded eyes. If she was going to succeed throughout the year she needed to be ready for whatever came her way.

xxx

Are you sure? _Nami asked plaintively._

 _'Quite sure,' the Sorting Hat said._

Damn. I was holding out for Ravenclaw.

 _'You've the mind for it,' the Hat admitted. 'But your goals at this time don't line up with the Ravenclaw ideal. Ambition, cunning, self-preservation…The world sees these as negative traits, but they need not be. There's no doubt about it, you're best suited for…'_

 _"SLYTHERIN!"_

xxx

It was so hard to wait patiently. Zoro wanted to know right that second if the kid with the goofy smile was going to be his ally, his enemy, or somewhere in-between. They'd gotten along pretty well on the train—idiocy aside, the guy was _funny_ —but Zoro wasn't going to let anybody get in the way of his goal to be the greatest duelist the world had ever known. It was good he'd found out that Luffy knew his way around a fight so early. It kept Zoro from wasting time trying to befriend him.

Would he be like Kuina, a sworn rival that he could respect? Or was he more like Helmeppo, who brandished his power recklessly to intimidate innocents? Zoro couldn't tell, and that made Monkey D Luffy dangerous.

He'd find out soon enough. At least he hoped he would. How long did it take a hat to make up its mind, anyway? Or maybe Luffy was so stupid there wasn't enough brain matter to work with, and they'd be stuck here all day.

Zoro chuckled at the thought as he leaned back in his seat. He would be patient, no matter how long it took.

xxx

 _'A refreshingly simple case,' the Sorting Hat said contentedly. 'Although I suppose there's a little wiggle room for argument, should you have a preference one way or the other.'_

I don't care what my damn House is, _Zoro groused._ Nothing's going to keep me from being the best.

 _'Spoken like a true…'_

 _"GRYFFINDOR!"_

xxx

The minutes ticked by. The Great Hall had gone from unnaturally silence, to humming with anticipation, and was now back to quiet. A good-natured Hufflepuff shouted that they should just flip a galleon and be done with it before being hushed by one of his peers. The show in front of them ceased to be a mere Sorting long ago; it had become entertainment.

It wasn't helped by Luffy's complete lack of self-awareness. Most children caught on to the fact that they need only _think_ for the Hat to understand them. Never one to censor himself in such a way, Luffy proceeded to carry on a rather one-sided conversation with one of Hogwarts most prized treasures.

"I want my own hat back!" he pouted, causing more than a few to gasp at his audacity. He tilted his head as apparently the Sorting Hat spoke to him, confusion crossing over his features. There was something familiar about the look that made it obvious he wore it quite often, and finally he grinned.

"Oh, so you're a mystery hat! That's cool, I guess."

From their corner of the Great Hall, the Ravenclaws sighed. It was obvious that whatever House Monkey D Luffy entered, it was not going to be theirs.

More time passed, and Luffy began to fidget in the stool. Apparently the Hat continued his conversation with the strange boy, because suddenly he burst out laughing.

"Shishishi! Yeah, I broke into the kitchen on the train. I just wanted to find some meat, and the stupid lady wouldn't sell me any."

The professors narrowed their eyes in unison as they identified a potential troublemaker, and the Slytherins groaned. No one in their House would admit to wrongdoing so easily.

At this, the Gryffindors began to stir with excitement. It seemed obvious that the boy was one of their own: bold, outspoken, afraid of no authority…the only question was why it was taking so long. A few of the students remembered their own Sortings, and knew if the kid would just a _sk_ , chances were he would tip the Hat in their favor. Everyone knew that Gryffindor was the most well-thought of and famous of the four Houses, Hufflepuff the least. Anyone who was anyone would choose the lion over the badger, and be proud to have done so.

Or so it seemed, because Luffy never said a word one way or the other. He continued to spout his side of a conversation that was quickly becoming incomprehensible without the correct context (and possibly with the correct context, depending on how dumb the kid really was).

Finally a strange, pensive look flashed across Luffy's eyes, and he became uncharacteristically serious. "I don't care about any of that stuff. I just want to have an adventure."

The Gryffindor's grinned amongst themselves. Surely that would seal the deal.

"But first I've gotta find some friends," he added as an afterthought. "An adventure isn't any fun without any friends."

And at that, the rip at the base of the Sorting Hat widened, and he bellowed louder than he had in years, surprising everyone in the castle. Everyone, except maybe Professor Brook, who had been around long enough to have learned a thing or two about the importance of loyalty and comradery to his beloved House.

" _HUFFLEPUFF!"_

* * *

 **AN:** And here's chapter one. Kind of an odd place to start, I know, but the idea hit me out of the blue and I decided to run with it. Fun fact: My computer recognizes Gryffindor as a word, but none of the other houses. Talk about bias.

I've got a head-canon or two that I think would be fun to pursue, but as I said previously, I would like some ideas from you guys. It's more fun that way. And since I know Sorting is Very Serious Business to some people, here is my defense of my choices:

Brook: Seems obvious to me that he'd be Hufflepuff. Not brainy enough for Ravenclaw nor brave enough for Gryffindor nor sneaky enough for Slytherin, he'd fall into Hufflepuff by default. Plus music is known to bring people together, which fits the all-inclusive theme of the House

Franky: Also seems pretty obvious he's a Gryffindor, although at times he brings out the worst of the Gryffindor house with his showboating and recklessness. Definitely smart enough to be a Ravenclaw (the guy rebuilt himself into a cyborg with little to no knowledge of the human body for crying out loud) but his smarts is an aspect that Oda doesn't often draw attention to.

Robin: Probably my most controversial choice, but if you're trying to make parallels with the manga, having her be an outcast in Slytherin would fit her character arc beautifully. Robin shows better than any other Straw Hat that what House a person is Sorted in depends greatly on where they are in their lives. Kid!Robin and StrawHat!Robin both suit Ravenclaw, but BaroqueWorks!Robin screams Slytherin, at least to me.

Chopper: Perhaps also a little controversial, as I could see a little bit of Hufflepuff in our favorite reindeer, but he's also pretty damn smart in his own right, and if Robin is a Slytherin I had to have someone represent Ravenclaw, and no one else fit the bill. I also made him a werewolf as a parallel to the ostracism he received in the manga.

Sanji: I could also see him as a Gryffindor, but I can't overlook the fact he spent ten years ignoring his own dream to settle a debt that no one else believed he owed. It's hidden, but Sanji is always putting other's needs before his own, a very Hufflepuff trait. Plus he's the buttmonkey of the manga, and Hufflepuff has the reputation as the buttmonkey House, so it seems to fit on a more meta level as well.

Usopp: Totally a Gryffindor and no one will convince me otherwise. He's a normal guy in a world full of badasses, and as early as Syrup Island he was fighting for a cause he believed in even though he knew he was hopelessly outmatched. If that's not courage I don't know what is.

Nami: If circumstances beyond her control drove Robin to a Slytherin mindset, Nami is a Slytherin by nature. As time goes on, she shows the more positive characteristics of the House.

Zoro: Again, totally a Gryffindor, with some shades of Hufflepuff as the series progresses. He's got honor, courage, and valor to spare. There's great ambition, yes, but he's too much of a meathead to fit in a House full of schemers.

Luffy: A tossup between Gryffindor and Hufflepuff. I've seen him speculated as a Slytheirn as well, but I don't get that. Sure he wants to be the King of the Pirates, but _why_? For the adventure. He didn't set out to change the world, the world is changing because of his unyielding loyalty to his crew and friends.

Which is why, in the end, I think Luffy's a Hufflepuff. When he first met Ace, he followed him around for who knows how long _because he didn't want to be lonely anymore._ He wants to be the strongest so he can protect those he cares about. When Luffy was a kid he was a crybaby and a scaredy-cat who trained himself to be the monster he is today so that he would never lose someone who was precious to him ever again. A Gryffindor would want credit for all the crap he's accomplished, Luffy couldn't care less.

Loyalty. Inclusiveness. Not afraid of hard work. These are the values Hufflepuff embraces, and to me anyway, they make up the core of Luffy's personality. And some food for thought: Luffy came out of the weakest of the four Blues, wouldn't it be fitting if he were sorted to the "least" of the Houses?

That's my thoughts, at least. Tell me what you think, give me an idea or two, and we'll see where this project takes me. If nothing else, it'll be an adventure.


	2. Mama Bear

**Head Canon:** Koala's mother was the one who sold out Fisher Tiger (head canon: mine)  
 **Rating:** K+  
 **Spoilers** : Fishman Island Arc

* * *

Most parents said they would do anything for their children, and most parents were liars. At best they didn't understand the full implication of their words, or if they did, they didn't grasp the cost of making such a statement. It was easy to imagine laying down one's life for a child that they loved and wanted to protect, but there were times a mother or a father was forced to choose not between their life and their child's, but their child's wellbeing and that of another.

This was one of those times.

"Sooo…do we have a deal?"

The young woman, not even thirty years old, looked briefly up at the vice admiral before losing her nerve. Despite his size, the man did not appear threatening and shouldn't have frightened her. Yet she was forced to clench her hands in her skirts to keep them from trembling. The vice admiral smiled in his normal, languid way and put out his cigarette.

Quiet reigned in the woman's small kitchen. Oppressive quiet, the kind that made the place she called home feel more like a prison than a sanctuary. Beside her the mayor of the town cleared his throat.

"This is your decision. I'll support you no matter what you choose."

The mayor's tone suggested his complete sincerity, but the woman knew better. He had made it perfectly clear for the past three years that he did not want this responsibility. If things turned out well, so much the better. He would spin the story in his favor during the next election year. But if things did _not_ turn out well…

The weight of the burden made the woman's shoulders slump, and she buried her head in her hands. She was so afraid that she felt like throwing up. The world was a cruel place when the sight of a boat bearing flag of the World Government caused such fear. The vice admiral pretended not to notice, lighted a second cigarette, and blew a succession of smoke rings into the air. He was in no hurry; whatever the woman chose he knew his course of action. The only question was if he would have to arrest a few humans along with the rest.

"If…if I do this, you'll leave her alone?" the woman asked. "No one will try to take her back to that place?"

"Ye-es," the vice admiral drawled. "That was the deeeaal."

Her daughter's life in exchange for a pirate's. It seemed like such an easy thing, but the woman could not forget the grateful joy that consumed her soul the day she received a letter stating that not only was her child alive, but she was safe and well-cared for and on her way home. Outside of legends, she knew little of fishmen, and all her life she'd assumed they were horrid, man-eating monsters.

But that couldn't be the case, could it? Not when this fishman freed her daughter from slavery and was traveling across the dangerous waters of the Grand Line to bring her back without expecting anything in return. The woman supposed they could try to raid the town for some recompense, but Foolshout Island had little to offer, and no pirate worth his salt would think the effort was worth it.

And this way her daughter would be safe. _Truly_ safe. There was no doubting that if she didn't agree, the marines would take her right back to Mariejois. The vice admiral did not _look_ intimidating, but there was something off-putting about his demeanor that did not sit well with the woman. Maybe it was how his tinted sunglasses hid his eyes from view, or how he was able to sit down at her table like he owned the place. Whatever the case, she got the feeling he was not to be trifled with, a steel hand hidden by a velvet glove. She was being given the illusion of a choice, nothing more.

Which was worth more, her daughter or the savior of the slaves? Every gift came at a price, and if Koala was to live, Fisher Tiger would be the one to pay.

"I…I'll do it," the woman said to the vice admiral hollowly. "I'll do what you say."

xxx

Off the distance there was a bang that almost sounded like a firecracker. The small girl of about eleven years old didn't notice at first, but it was followed by several more bangs just like it. She'd heard noises like that before on Mariejois, but only when a slave did something wrong and was shot as punishment. No one should be shooting a gun now.

Koala looked up at her mother through tear-stained eyes. "What was that?"

Her mother's grasp tightened so much that it was hard to breathe. "Nothing. You're home now, and that's all that matters."

* * *

 **AN:** Sorry for both the short chapter and by not utilizing any of the (quite awesome) prompts you (my awesome readers) sent. I want to shoot for a weekly update schedule, and frankly work kicked my butt this weekend so I settled on writing out something I've had on the backburner for a while. I've got a whole head-canon surrounding Koala and her mom, so there might be a continuation to this someday.

Never fear, this week looks better for me, time-wise, and I've got a couple of prompts started. If time permits and the muses allow, I'll update early to make up for it. If not, I'll do my best to see you all again next Monday. As always, thanks for reading.


	3. The Last Goodbye

**Head-canon** : Whitebeard sending his nurses off before the Marineford War, submitted by Black' Victor Cachat  
 **Rating:** K  
 **Characters:** Whitebeard and an OCs of mine  
 **Summary:** Whitebeard's daughters love him just as much as his sons, but unlike the men on the _Moby Dick_ they knew exactly what he was doing the moment he removed himself from their care

* * *

Edward "Whitebeard" Newgate stood before the group of silent women. There was not a dry eye in the room, and that included the great Emperor himself. He had made his pronouncement, and they knew, perhaps better than anyone else aboard the _Moby Dick_ where his decision would lead.

"Pops, you…you can't!" Dorothea cried. Outspoken as she was beautiful, the feisty nurse was known for giving as much trouble as she got from the wounded men she treated. It didn't surprise Newgate that she would be the first to speak.

"I must. Ace's life is at stake."

Sweet, docile Margret broke down into tears, her shoulders shaking from the force of her sobs. With a small sigh, Whitebeard put a comforting hand on her back.

"Y-you'll die," she said, speaking aloud the words everyone else was too afraid to even think.

"Perhaps," Whitebeard conceded. "But my son needs me, and I won't let the Government take him without a fight."

Strong arms wrapped around his waist, barely long enough to encircle him. "But what about us?" Edith wailed. She was the youngest and most recently recruited of the medical staff, but that did not stop her from caring any less than the others. "We need you, too! Where else are we going to go?"

Softly, tenderly, Whitebeard broke off the embrace. "You do not," he said, his low, gravelly voice kind. "Gurarara, I've depended on your care all these years, and none of you have ever failed to take treat my idiot sons when they get themselves into trouble. Each and every one of you is smart. Capable. Able to go anywhere in the world and pursue any career you desire.

"Where I am going you cannot follow." He held one of Edith's hands in his comparatively huge one. "These hands were made to heal, not to kill. I will not place my daughters in unnecessary danger."

"But surely you'll need us after," Mary said practically. "There will be casualties."

"Await Marco's call. He will send for you when the time comes," Whitebeard said.

It felt strange to say it like that, as if it were a foregone conclusion that he would die. There was a chance he wouldn't, but for all his pride Whitebeard held no illusions about himself. Old Sengoku and his dogs were sure to have plenty of tricks up their sleeves, and on the best of days Whitebeard required constant medical attention to keep his heart beating.

This was his final stand.

One by one his medical staff left, until a single woman remained. Unlike the others, she was not young, and the passage of time had worn away the beauty of her youth. Doctor Minerva Malidy sat firmly rooted in a chair at the back of the room, watching the proceedings quietly with an unlit pipe in her mouth.

The first thing Whitebeard noticed was how weary she looked. Her white lab coat was wrinkled and one of the edges was starting to fray. Her hair, usually meticulously coiffed, was held up haphazardly by a pair of chopsticks. The crows-feet that framed her hazel eyes were deeper than he remembered, the silver strands in her dark hair more prominent. Whitebeard wasn't the only one getting old, it seemed.

"Doctor, you have your orders," Whitebeard said. "Nothing you have to say will change my mind."

Minerva nodded and chewed on her pipe. It was a gift from her late father—her biological father—who died shortly after she graduated from medical school. She was too contentious of her health ever to smoke, but outside of the operating room there were precious few places she would go without it.

"They look up to you, you know. Just as much as any of the boys."

"I know," Whitebeard said.

"I wonder if you do," Minerva said mildly, her eyebrows raising. "I know your code, even if I don't understand it. As long as there's been war there have been medical personnel out on the battlefield treating the injured. They would do that for you, for your crew, if you'd let them."

"They don't know what they're asking for. I've made sure they've stayed well away from the fighting, and that's not going to change," Whitebeard said, his tone leaving no room for compromise. "I made that clear when they boarded this ship."

"And most are grateful for your protection, but Ace is just as much their brother as he is your son. You wanted this crew to be family, and damn it if you haven't succeeded. You can't ask them…ask _me…_ to sit back and do nothing!"

Silent tears streaked down her face, wiped angrily away with the edge of her sleeve. Minerva sniffed and looked unflinchingly into the eyes of the world's strongest man.

"I've spent fifteen years keeping you alive, and another ten before that sailing the most dangerous waters in the world treating your moronic children who can't go two seconds without getting into trouble when I could have just as easily stayed on Drum. I did that for _you_ , because I believed in _your_ dream. And I'm…I'm supposed to walk away from that now? Do you think so little of us? Of _me?_ "

Whitebeard didn't have an immediate answer. He remembered the look on Minerva's face when she realized help had come too late for Thatch, the horrible realization that all the skill in the world could not bring back the dead. She had had crewmembers die in her care before, of course. You didn't sail the New World without understanding that sacrifice.

But Thatch…Thatch was different. Marshall D. Teach managed to murder him under their very noses. The betrayal and Ace's subsequent departure brought turmoil onto the _Moby Dick_ that had never been seen before. No one was left unaffected.

"Forgive me, Minerva. Perhaps you're right, and my morals are a product of a bygone era, but as long as I live you won't step foot on Marineford."

"Then you won't be living long," she replied dully.

Whitebeard approached and tilted her head up with a finger. "My dear, I don't think you understand. This isn't the average battlefield. Sengoku and Tsuru have had weeks to plan this, and I wouldn't be surprised if a few of those upstart admirals don't have a scheme or two of their own. There will be dozens of Devil Fruit users concentrated into a small area, untold firepower…if things go poorly, I don't doubt that this island will disappear from the map."

Her face went ashen.

"It's not a question of your courage or the ability of any one of my girls, but Marineford is not the place for someone unaccustomed to battle. The men would feel obligated to protect you, and their attentions cannot be divided."

"So you're saying we'll just be a liability."

"Yes," Whitebeard said, his tone grave. "And with so many heavy hitters…"

"If anyone gets injured, likely as not they're dead, no matter what we do. I understand now." Her shoulders dropped, and she sighed heavily. "Very well. I see you're determined, and I want to see Ace rescued just as much as you do. So please, take this."

Minerva reached into her lab coat and pulled out a small bottle from one of the inside pockets. Whitebeard took it from her. It was not labeled.

"What's this?" he asked.

"Your last hurrah in pill form. Take it half an hour before the battle starts and you'll feel twenty years younger."

There was no joy in her voice, and Whitebeard decided it was best not to ask what price he would make for such power. "Thank you." Tears prickled in the corner of his eyes. He hated this, saying goodbye. "Tell me, Minerva, did I do good by you and the girls?"

Whitebeard's head doctor let out a broken laugh. "You've been the best father a daughter could ask for."

And in the end, that was was all he could have asked for.

* * *

AN: So…about that weekly update schedule…yeah. I fail. Thanks for your continued patience. I'll ask my forgiveness by requesting you guys tell me what you think about how I've presented Whitebeard here. I didn't think he'd be tough to characterize, but I had more trouble with him than I expected.

FYI, all the nurses named here are taken from famous nurses in real life:

Dorothea—Dorothea Dix, pioneer in the field of mental health

Margaret—Margaret Sanger, the founder of what would eventually become Planned Parenthood

Edith—Edith Cavell, a WWI nurse who helped Allied troops escape occupied Belgium and was eventually court-marshalled and executed for it

Mary-There are a few Marys in medicine so take your pick: Mary Eliza Mahoney (first African-American nurse), Mary Seacole (a Jamaican nurse who worked during the Crimean War despite being passed over by Florence Nightingale), Mary Breckinridge (revolutionized rural health care), etc., etc.

Minerva Malidy an old OC of mine and a minor character from a story that I'll probably never write. Minerva being the Roman goddess of wisdom and Malidy a pun on the word 'malady'. In the SBS for volume 76 Oda calls the girls on Whitebeard's ship part of his medical team, which in my mind would include doctors as well as nurses, and I think it would take someone nearly as good as Chopper to keep ol' Edward Newgate alive as long as he was.

As always, thanks for reading.


	4. Great Expectations

**Head-canon:** How Otohime survived giving birth to Shirahoshi (mine, requested by multiple)  
 **Rating:** K+  
 **Characters:** Royal family of Fishman Island  
 **Spoilers:** Fishman Island, obviously  
 **Summary:** Otohime was pregnant again, and this time it might just kill her

* * *

Week Three

Otohime was at her desk writing letters when she sensed it. It wasn't even a feeling as much as a fleeting blip of noise on the edge of her consciousness, barely perceptible to even her formidable haki. If she were out in the city or in the presence of her three young sons she doubted she would have noticed it.

A hand instinctively went to her stomach, and Otohime stopped writing. Her eyes widened when it happened again, a tiny movement from deep within her, an erratic impulse of electricity discharging for the first time. A _heartbeat._

Most women would not even know they were pregnant, and a fetal pulse was usually not heard until week six or seven. But just like everything else, the primitive cardiac tissue needed to practice before it could work properly, and with Otohime's unique ability she could _feel it_.

* * *

Week Four

If the tests didn't prove she was pregnant, the morning sickness certainly did. She had never been this ill with any of the boys, and Neptune seemed to think that was an indication that they were having a girl this time around.

Otohime wasn't convinced that was the way it worked, but had to admit things were very different. None of her pregnancies were _easy_ , but it seemed with this one she was having a difficult time more quickly than she should. The doctors and midwives had expressed some concerns with Manboshi, but for different reasons. She didn't want to say that something was wrong when she wasn't sure anything was, but it was certainly something to keep an eye on.

It irked her that she was unable to go out among the people like she was used to, and if not for her three darling princes she might have gone insane. Fukaboshi, Ryuboshi, and Manboshi were just as keen for a sister as their father was for a daughter, and Otohime took great delight in their attempts to come up with a name for her unborn child.

* * *

Week Eight

Things were progressing too quickly. It was expected that by her fourth child Otohime would start showing earlier in her pregnancy, and as thin as she was there was nothing to hide the swell of her belly. But at barely two months along she should not look like she was in the middle of her second trimester. Fear prickled in the back of her mind as more doctors came and preformed more tests, and the whole palace was on edge waiting for the results. The best they could hope for was a miscalculation, that what Otohime thought was her last period was actually spotting as the embryo implanted into her uterus.

As much of a dreamer and an idealist as she was, Otohime knew her own body, and she knew it well. She had not made a mistake, and it wasn't long until her worst fears were confirmed.

* * *

Week Twelve

There was not much difference between a mermaid's pregnancy and a human's, with one notable exception: _Gravidus praegrandis_ , or a giant pregnancy.

With their long genetic memories, regardless of the size of the parents in question there was always a chance that a fish- or mer-baby would be a large one. In Otohime's case, that risk was tripled because Neptune himself was a giant. Her sons were on the large end of normal when they were born, but they had been normal, but there was no chance of that this time around.

With three healthy children already, Otohime had been advised against conceiving again for fear her luck would run out. There was a reason why humans so outnumbered their oceanic cousins, and that was because in the past such a pregnancy would be a death sentence. Even now, with the advent of medicines to slow the growth of the fetus some suggested she abort. Her case was the worst seen in living memory, and even with the help of cutting-edge science there was no guarantee that she would survive.

Otohime balked at such a thought. Even without the aid of her enhanced senses she could feel her baby move within her, and with her haki Otohime could tell that the child was perfectly normal, albeit very big. She couldn't explain what it felt like to _know_ that her baby could breathe and feel and even suck its own thumb, and with Neptune's support she continued onward.

* * *

Week Twenty

When she was pregnant with Fukaboshi and touring the hospital where she would eventually give birth, Otohime had stumbled upon an old fishman dying of cancer. When she asked why he was refusing further treatment he had told her, somewhat bitterly, that sometimes the cure was worse than the disease itself.

Otohime now knew what he meant.

She was given drugs to slow the growth of her daughter while other medicine sped up organ development. There was no chance of Otohime carrying her to term, but the cocktail of medicines hopefully gave her the baby a chance to survive a premature birth.

But no drug came without side effects. At twenty weeks Otohime went into labor, and the doctors were barely able to stop it in time. After that she was confined to bedrest, a near death sentence for one as active as herself. As time went on she became more and more ill, until she was barely able to eat and hardly able to walk.

Otohime would have this child, but not without great cost.

* * *

Week Twenty-six

The time came too soon when her body was unable to handle any more. A date for delivery was chosen, and Neptune held her hand as she was wheeled into surgery. There was no question of attempting a natural birth, and a whole squad of doctors stood at the ready to take care of both mother and baby.

Her poor husband was nearly sick with worry. Otohime gave his hand a weak squeeze and forced herself to smile. She had been in terrible pain for weeks now, but it would be worth it in the end. The medicines had lured the baby into something of a stupor, but Otohime could still feel her, alive and well.

"We never did decide on a name," she murmured, letting her eyes flutter closed as another pain tore through her abdomen.

"Don't think of that now," Neptune said. "Just think…just think of getting through this first. We'll come up with something later."

"I won't be able to hold her as long as the others."

Neptune leaned down to kiss her forehead, and the last thing she remembered before going under was him whispering, "Then I will hold her enough for the both of us."

* * *

Day One

Otohime lay next to Shirahoshi in the hospital bed. It seemed odd to think of her as a premature baby when she was fifteen pounds at the time of her birth. She was a bald, red scrap of a mermaid with a head that was disproportionately large to the rest of her body, even for a newborn. It reminded Otohime of a picture she'd once seen of a newly hatched bird. She was the ugliest, most precious baby Otohime had ever seen, and just looking at her made the queen's eyes well up with tears.

Despite her size she was fragile, the inverse of her mother who was much stronger than she looked. She would need special care to make it in this deep, dark world, but Otohime would not be able give it. Not when she was just beginning to recover herself.

Otohime felt a small pang of loss when she thought of it. The surgeons made sure that her daughter would be her last child, and by the time they were discharged from the hospital she would be too big for Otohime to carry, let alone feed or change or any of the dozens of things mothers did for their children on a daily basis.

Carefully, tenderly, Otohime touched her pinkie finger to her daughter's. It was a silly little game she'd started with Fukaboshi, one that had somehow persisted with Ryuboshi and Manboshi. It was a small gesture, but one she would be able to continue as her daughter grew to become one of the largest mermaids Fishman Island had ever seen.

"I will do my best, Shirahoshi," she whispered as her daughter slept, saying her name aloud for the first time. "I will make this world a better place for you to live in. You will see the sun someday. I promise."

Instinctively Shirahoshi turned to the voice of her mother, and at that moment Otohime knew that no matter what the future held, it had all been worth it.

* * *

 **AN:** I've written a little about Otohime before, and I've had several people ask me how in the world she was able to give birth to Shirahoshi. It would have been so much simpler if Oda said mermaids laid eggs or something, but this is the best I can come up with:

Since fishmen genetics work the way they do, Otohime would not be the first normal sized woman to give birth to a ginormous kid. It was said during the Saboady arc that it was the human's greater numbers that banished the fishmen to the sea, which always seemed a little funny to me because in many respects fish- and mermen are the same as humans and really should have about the same conception rates and whatnot. Then I realized that mermaids probably can't give birth until their tales split at the age of thirty, which would given them a smaller window of time to have kids (and, of course, would mean Otohime was pushing forty when she had Shirahoshi, adding to the high-risk nature of her pregnancy).

I also think that fewer of these babies survived, due to poor medical care and the fact it's physically impossible for normal sized moms to give birth to ginormous kids (as a side note, I wonder what it would feel like for a ginormous mom to have a normal sized kid. Like, would you even be able to tell they were pregnant?). The way I imagine it, is over time Fishman Island developed a way to 1) diagnose these pregnancies early on and 2) come up with a way to make them survivable until the age of viability (usually 22-24 weeks) when they are then born via Cesarean.

In Shirihoshi's case, she's many times huger than even the hugest mermaids we see, so Otohime had an even _worse_ time of it than normal. The result? _She never fully recovered_ , and for the rest of her days had a much more delicate constitution than before. Because let's face it, if slapping someone was always enough to break Otohime hand, I don't see how she could manage Shirahoshi's conception let alone her birth _._

As a side note, I also think that Otohime's innate empathy doesn't help her health out any. It's been scientifically proven that unhappy, stressed out people get sick more often and tend to not live as long, and Otohime willingly takes on and feels all the negative emotions of her country because her people's burdens are her burdens, too.

Basically I've spent too much time and energy trying to figure all this out, but I think using One Piece Logic ™ it works. In any case, Otohime is awesome and more people should sing her praises.


	5. The Ascent

**Summary** : Justice was supposed to be unchangeable. Absolute. If that were true, then why did she feel so lost?  
 **Two-for-the-price-of-one Head-canon Special:** Smoker and Tashigi father-daughter relationship (John Spangler), Tashigi character interpretation (GammaSoundingBoard, see AN after the chapter for full head-canon)  
 **Rating** : K+  
 **Timeframe:** Post-Alabasta

* * *

Smoker took his promotion as well as could be expected. He growled and barked while Tashigi made sure he dressed in his best suit, threatened to disembowel the very amused looking Captain Hina for teasing him, and sat in stony silence during the award ceremony where he received special commendations for single-handedly stopping the vile pirate Crocodile from taking over the country of Alabasta.

At least he made no further public outbursts. Apparently Fleet Admiral Sengoku himself deemed it necessary to personally tell Smoker what would happen to him if he blew the lid of what was now being dubbed the Alabasta Incident. It was enough to make Tashigi vaguely uncomfortable, like she'd drunk some spoilt milk and was about ready to get sick at any moment.

This wasn't Justice. Tashigi didn't know what it was, but it wasn't Justice. She endured the torture of receiving her own promotion with a stoicism usually reserved for funerals, picking at her food during the dinner that followed because everything tasted like ash on her tongue. As soon as was polite, she slipped away and limped to the room where she would be staying while she convalesced from the devastating injury given to her by Nico Robin.

The doctor said she'd very nearly lost her career and her dream. The Oharan's attack could have just as easily left her crippled for life, and it wasn't like she could fight with one good leg. Shaking her head to clear away that thought, Tashigi got ready for bed. Whether by choice of by accident, Nico Robin hadn't hurt her that badly, and she would be fully recovered by the time Smoker planned on setting sail again.

 _That_ thought almost made Tashigi cry, which upset her because it seemed like these days everything made her cry, which in turn made her want to cry _more_. Wiping a tear away with the heel of her hand irritably, Tashigi plopped down on the bed. She was so incredibly frustrated, and had no outlet for her emotions. Smoker had the emotional range of a rock, and she had to keep a brave face around everyone else, because they would assume her weakness was related to her gender. Tashigi desperately wished she had a female friend to talk to, but the only woman she really knew at Marine Headquarters was Captain Hina, and the way she talked to herself in the third person weirded Tashigi out.

Besides, Hina would probably say the same thing Smoker said, what _everyone_ said: That she needed to get stronger. As if Tashigi didn't try! She'd been passionate about swords her whole life, but had never been allowed to train with one until she enlisted into the marines. Tashigi worked twice as hard as any of her male counterparts to overcome her natural clumsiness while enduring countless mean, hateful, and downright _ignorant_ remarks that she would never succeed because she was a woman.

And maybe…maybe she couldn't. Not the same way a man could. There weren't many high-ranking female marines, and most of them had Devil Fruits. Tashigi dreamed a big, impossible dream that felt so terribly out of reach.

It was her deepest, darkest fear, one that Tashigi thought she banished during her time serving under Captain ( _no, he was a commodore now)_ Smoker. It was an undeniable fact that women were not as physically strong as men, and without some way to bridge the gender gap, Tashigi was doomed to fall further and further behind.

"I thought I told you no more of this crying business."

Tashigi jumped about two feet in the air. Smoker stood, arms across his chest and surly expression firmly in place, right where she was sure there had been nothing before. Tashigi stammered an apology and tried to get to her feet, but her knee buckled painfully and she was forced to sit back down at the edge of her bed.

"Sir! I-I didn't hear you come in…" his scowl deepened, and a hint of blush crossed her cheeks. "Oh, Devil Fruit. Right. But you at least could have knocked!"

"And you should be more aware of your surroundings. What if I'd been an assassin?"

Her thoughts returned to Nico Robin, and she shuddered, her blush deepening. "I'm sorry, sir. It won't happen again, sir."

"See that it doesn't." Smoker made himself at home on the bed, body positioned so he had a half-eye on the door. "You left early tonight."

Tashigi's mouth went dry. Even she couldn't miss the hidden question that he was asking. "I…I was feeling unwell, sir. The doctor did say I needed my rest."

"It's enough to make anyone sick," he said, nodding vaguely to the direction of the award ceremony. "But that doesn't explain why you were crying."

A fresh wave of tears swelled behind her eyes, but Tashigi beat them back. It was unlike Smoker to actually care. They actually hadn't been together all that long, the misfit girl and the nearly-mutinous logia, but against all odds they managed to coexist. Tashigi respected Smoker more than anyone else she knew, but she didn't always understand him. He was all rough edges and poisonous glares to those who irritated him (which, on some days, was everyone) but he took great pride in his work. It had been impossible to ignore it when he shouted at their superiors, challenging on her behalf the Justice that made his subordinates cry.

"I don't know, sir," Tashigi said quietly. Since joining the marines she'd been told that Justice was unchanging. Absolute. If that were true, why did she feel so lost? "It's like…each of my limbs has been grabbed by one of Crocodile's bananadiles, and they're each swimming in different directions. I feel like I'm being pulled apart, and I don't know how to put myself back together again."

"Hnm." Smoker chomped at the end of his cigars pensively. "You swordsmen types. Always too proud for your own good."

"Sir?"

"You still want to take all the masterwork swords away from punks who don't deserve them, right?"

"Well, yes," Tashigi said, surprised that Smoker even knew what her dream was. He'd never mentioned it before.

"And you know you're not strong enough to do that as is, don't you?"

"Y-yes," Tashigi said, ashamed at herself even as she spoke.

Smoker let out a puff of white smoke that Tashigi wasn't sure if came from his cigar or his Devil Fruit. "Then what is there to think about? You get stronger, and you do it. It's as simple as that."

"But, sir," Tashigi protested, "that means I'll have to be the best swordsman in the world!"

She snapped her mouth shut as Smoker glared at her. Did he guess what was throwing her soul into such torment? Was it possible that he knew what she had been too afraid to tell him? Could it be that Smoker knew that she'd given up not one, but two chances to apprehend Roronoa Zoro?

Did he realize that she was so confused she didn't even know what her own Justice was, let alone how to stand for it?

* * *

 _The city of Aluburna was alight with celebration. It seemed like the rain brought hope to the people of the desert. There were those who mourned dead loved ones who had fallen in battle, but after going so long without peace, the people of Alabasta were going to enjoy it with all their being._

 _Tashigi took another drink to wash the bitter taste out of her mouth. She should be returning to Captain Smoker, but she wasn't sure she could face him. Capturing the Straw Hat Pirates meant everything to him, and Tashigi had let them go free. What subordinate, what marine, did something like that?_

 _Even though she would have liked to do nothing more than to drown in her sorrows, the festive atmosphere of the bar forbade it. The people were happy, and Tashigi was determined not to spoil their mood. So she sat alone in a dark corner, doing her best not to be seen._

 _It was a coward's act, but it also let her watch in abject horror as Roronoa Zoro entered the establishment, bold as brass. She could see the outline of bandages beneath his swaths of clothing and marveled that he was still alive. He'd been a burst capillary away from bleeding to death just the day before, and how he was walking around, laughing with the others in the bar while he drank, as if nothing was wrong._

 _The familiar white-sheathed sword hung at his hip._ Wado Ichimonji, _the straight road to harmony. An ironic name, considering it was currently being wielded by a demon. It was one of the finest blades in the world, the type of sword Tashigi had sworn to take from unfit owners all those years ago._

 _Yet she made no effort to move and slouched her shoulders forward. A cold, almost numb feeling spread through her chest when she saw Roronoa Zoro, the throbbing of pain from a wound not yet healed. She would never forgive him for what he'd done at Loguetown, but still she did not move as his eyes met hers. The demon stiffened, as if afraid, but that was laughable. How could someone so strong fear someone like her?_

 _Longer and longer Roronoa studied her, and Tashigi began to feel uncomfortable. Rather than cause a disturbance, she rose to leave. Doing so would require crossing paths with…with him. It wasn't as if he were really hiding himself, and it wasn't as if he was difficult to recognize. He was once again forcing Tashigi to go against her ideals, and she hated him for that._

 _Her sword felt impossibly heavy on her hip as she limped away like a dog with its tail tucked between its legs. To Tashigi's chagrin, Zoro followed her. He continued to follow her as she walked towards the docks, and she almost laughed when she realized that all she had to do was continue on her course and the infamous Pirate Hunter would arrest himself._

 _Instead, she turned around. "What do you want?!" Tashigi demanded. "Haven't you done enough?"_

 _Anger flashed across his dark eyes. "I haven't done anything, you infuriating woman!"_

 _"Again with my gender! I never asked to be a girl, you know. I never asked for any of this!"_

 _Roronoa Zoro sputtered incoherently. "You…you…gah! I never thought I would say I'd meet someone worse than Nami! For your information, the only one who's brought up your gender is you. God damn it, why do you always have to sound like her?"_

 _"I don't even know who this Nami is," Tashigi snapped._

 _"Not her, you idiot,_ Kuina _!"_

 _It took Tashigi a moment to process this, before remembering the dead friend whose face she apparently wore. For a moment anger bubbled within her. She hated him so much. He'd humiliated her, toyed with her, led her into believing he was a decent sort of person before she found out he was nothing but a pirate._

 _"I don't have time for this," Tashigi said, her voice sounding strangely dead even to her own ears. She turned to walk away._

 _"You don't even want a duel?"_

 _"You do?" she asked incredulously. "You were half-dead yesterday."_

 _"That was yesterday. I thought you wanted to take my sword from me," he said, hand going to that white sheath instinctively. "But you didn't. You had the perfect opportunity, and you passed it up."_

 _Tashigi squinted her eyes and peered at him through the thick drizzle that still fell. He was conscious when she called the marines off? How…? Was there difference in strength that great?_

 _"I may not have your skill with the blade, but I still have my pride as a swordsman," Tashigi said coldly._

 _This seemed to please him, and a smirk stretched across his face. She'd seen that look before, at the swords shop. At first she'd thought he was trying to be flirtatious with her. It wouldn't be the first time, and there was a sort of charm in the dimple in his cheek._

 _Now Tashigi knew better. That look was nothing but pure arrogance. Worse, it wasn't exactly unfounded._

 _"Then how about now?" Roronoa said. He looked like he was about ready to draw his blades at any moment._

 _"You're mad!" Tashigi exclaimed. "You've been cut to ribbons, and I can barely walk—"_

 _"So we're on even footing, then. You're stronger, I can feel it. Maybe enough to be a challenge."_

 _He was taunting her, she realized. Something snapped within her. "I'm not fighting you, Roronoa!"_

 _Zoro fell silent. Then he frowned. "You're afraid."_

 _He had the gall to sound disappointed! "You dare—!"_

 _"I'm going to be the best swordsman in the world," Roronoa Zoro said, with such a gravitas that Tashigi knew he was serious, despite the ridiculousness of what he was saying. "So if you want this blade, you'll have to be the best, too."_

 _Tashigi felt herself paling._

 _"Besides, Hawk Eyes's sword has got to be in that book of yours somewhere. Did you think you'd get it off him by asking politely?" He snorted as he turned to go back to the bar. "Come at me when you're ready. I'll be waiting at the top."_

* * *

Yes, to achieve her dream, she would have to be the best. Perhaps it was smallminded of her, but Tashigi had never really thought of it in those terms. Maybe that was what was wrong all along. She dreamed big, but never stopped to consider what it would take to make her dream a reality.

Smoker only shrugged his shoulders. "Yeah, and so what? If that's what you want, go out there and _do_ it."

Tashigi blinked at the nonchalance of which he spoke. For a moment, her superior officer sounded just as crazy as Roronoa Zoro.

"Besides, that kid Monkey D. Luffy is going places. Who knows how far he'll get before we can stop him. We'll need to be ready."

We. He was saying that they would do it together, that there were things even Smoker had to learn before they succeeded. For some reason, his unconditional confidence made Tashigi feel better. Smoker never sugar-coated anything. If he said he thought she had what it took, then he meant it.

Resolve strengthening, Tashigi snapped a firm salute. The wounds Alabasta left on her had not completely healed, but the worst was behind them. She could move forward, for Smoker's sake as well as her own.

All around the world there were swords enslaved to evil wielders, men and women who used their blades to cause destruction, chaos, and misery. Tashigi would free them, see them put to use for the good of all. Justice would be served.

Even if it meant becoming the best.

* * *

 **AN:** Another tricky chapter, because 1) I think I've made Zoro a little OOC, 2) while I don't _dislike_ Tashigi as much as some, I don't give her much thought either and 3) the lovely GammaSoundingBoard's idea was less of a prompt and more of a character interpretation. Wonderfully interesting to think through, not as easy to build a chapter around. In his/her own words:

"I don't think Zoro holds back because of Tashigi's sex. It's unlike him and insulting to Kuina's memory. It's my theory that it's because Kuina and Tashigi are very much alike. As much as Tashigi hates the fact people look down on her for being female, she's just as apt to use that excuse whenever she loses…it's like Kuina before they made their promise.

Tashigi's goal is probably the one thing Zoro can sympathize with. In One Piece swords aren't just weapons; they are living works of art with their own spirits. That people will use them simply as tools for evil probably grates on Zoro as much as it does Tashigi; which is why he's fine with the idea and taunts her into getting stronger. By giving Tashigi motivation to get stronger, she'll continue to do so and he won't have to see her pinning her loses on her sex, since the stronger she gets, the less chance she has of losing in the first place. _In doing so, he's also shaping her up into the person Kuina could have been, had she not died."_ (Emphasis mine)

Tashigi gets a lot of flak, and perhaps some of it is deserved, but I also feel like I must point out that when we first met her she was perfectly competent by East Blue standards, only outclassed by the Grand Line-ready Zoro. The way I see it, Zoro is Tashigi's Mihawk, that one vastly superior opponent who opens her eyes to how big her world really is.

Although I still wish Oda would have let her take on Monet by herself. Would have completed her character arc beautifully. She and Smoker both got shafted hard during Punk Hazard. 'Tis a real shame.

As always, thanks for reading.


	6. Nightmares and Lullabies

Summary: Robin wasn't supposed to care about the Straw Hat Pirates, but on the anniversary of Bellemere's death she couldn't help but offer Nami the comfort she had always been denied.

Head Canon: When Nami gets nightmares, Robin sings her an Oharan lullaby she heard her aunt sing to her cousin—the lullaby she wished someone would have sung to her on the most painful and lonely days of her life (sent by AgnatareForester, who wins the 'totes adorbs' award for prompts)

Rating: K+

Timeframe: Post-Alabasta, Pre-Jaya

Music Box Special: For a fuller listening experience, listen to Lullaby of Takeda (the Akai Tori version is very good), or alternately Beautiful Bird by the Brehms, which isn't a lullaby, but is sung by Stephanie Yong, aka Dubbed!Robin

* * *

It was late again, and Robin wasn't sleeping.

She turned the last page of the book she was reading, taking in the words one at a time as she savored the last lines of a well-written book. It was with reluctance when she finally closed the cover, once more hiding the treasures that lay within from the rest of the world. A quick look at the clock told her it was nearing two o'clock in the morning, and Robin knew she was far too old to stay up like this but found herself not caring nearly as much as she should have.

It was very easy to be comfortable here. The Straw Hat Pirates, with a few minor exceptions, had given her a surprisingly warm welcome. It would be a trick and a half to win the swordsman over, but he was unflinchingly loyal to his captain, and if Monkey D. Luffy wanted Robin aboard, who was Roronoa Zoro to argue?

The only thing that could have improved this arrangement was if Robin could have had her own room. Crocodile spoiled her in that regard, and she found herself missing the privacy his casino offered. This was unfeasible for a number of reasons—the first and greatest being the small size of the _Going Merry_. Robin knew better than to try to sleep anywhere other than the woman's quarters.

So each night Robin laid her head down on the bed that until recently had been occupied by the princess of Alabasta and tried not to think too deeply into the reasons why Straw Hat Luffy would be willing to take her into his crew. At first the navigator was the ideal roommate, knowing almost instinctively when Robin was in the mood for conversation and when it was best to leave her with her own thoughts. This, too, was unexpected, surprisingly pleasant, and made Robin's heart ache a little when she dwelled on the temporary nature of her stay here.

Cracks were already beginning to form in the veneer of hospitality. Three or four days ago the normally sound-sleeping Nami tossed and turned throughout the night, and she hadn't gotten a good night's rest since then. The navigator never once blamed Robin for her sleeping woes—out loud, anyway. It was clear to Robin that the stress of sharing a room with an enemy who specialized in assassination was starting to take its toll.

Perhaps that was why Robin allowed herself to stay up into the small hours of the morning to finish her book, sacrificing her own rest to ease the mind of the navigator. She told herself it was purely pragmatic; the navigator's temper was volatile enough even on the days when her sleep was uninterrupted. Lately even the captain knew it was best to tread lightly around the sharp-tongued girl, and the longer Robin could play the peacemaker the longer she could stay with this endearingly charming group of pirates.

But this was not the only reason, although to admit it, even to herself, was frightening. Robin paused at the door of the woman's quarters, using her power to check on Nami's wellbeing. Robin could hear her breathing, steadily and evenly…but not quite deep enough for her to be asleep. For a moment Robin didn't know what to do, until she let out a jaw-popping yawn of her own. She was nearly thirty years old and still recovering from the injuries sustained down in the tombs. It didn't matter if the navigator was still awake, Robin's own needs trumped Nami's comfort.

The door creaked as she opened it, and Robin made a mental note to oil the hinges at the earliest opportunity. A candle flickered on their small desk, bathing the room in a soft, warm glow. Sitting on the edge of the bed was Nami. The navigator was cradling her head in her hands and didn't seem to have heard Robin. Her shoulders slumped in…was that defeat? No, that didn't seem right. Robin paused at the entrance way, trying to untangle the image she was seeing.

The navigator was not crying, although it wouldn't have surprised Robin if she had been a moment ago. Orange hair darkened by sweat and dancing shadows clung to the back of her neck, highlighting the lines of tension that extended down each trapezius and disappearing underneath her loose-fitting shirt. It was the look of someone trying to regather themself after a lapse of control, an image that was hauntingly familiar.

Robin felt a strange urge to sit beside her, to offer her some paltry form of comfort. Robin quashed that feeling ruthlessly, but even as she was ordering her feet to slip quietly away, her treacherous lips dug herself in deeper.

"Miss Navigator?"

Nami jerked upright and tried to spin towards Robin in the same motion. For a moment Robin saw a look of unguarded vulnerability, quickly hidden by her normal smile.

"Robin! I didn't think you'd be coming in tonight."

Robin forced her expression into a neutral mask. She walked to the desk and set her book down, giving the navigator more time to compose herself. Out of the corner of her eye, Robin saw her wipe her eyes hastily with the back of her hand.

If her presence was upsetting Nami this badly, it was best to find out now before more disastrous consequences could arise. "I didn't think you'd be up," Robin probed carefully.

"It's stupid," the navigator said. She laughed a broken little laugh and ran her hands through her hair. Robin waited for her to say more, but nothing came.

"Bad dreams?" Robin guessed.

Nami grimaced. "That obvious?"

"A little." Robin sat down at the desk, lowering herself to Nami's height to foster a feeling of trust while still maintaining a safe distance. And that's how it always was, wasn't it? Robin doing everything in her power to get them to trust her, while not being able to trust them in return.

"Do you want to talk about it?" Robin asked gently. It seemed obvious to her that the navigator _did,_ although something was holding her back. Robin was suddenly reminded of their first interaction with one another, how wary the navigator had been before Robin bribed her with a portion of Crocodile's treasure.

She also remembered how the younger girl had called her "sister" after that, how Robin had treasured the term of endearment despite herself. Surely the navigator had been exaggerating, perhaps even lying in her acceptance of a former enemy. That didn't stop Robin from wanting to help her now.

"You'll laugh," Nami said. "Big girls aren't supposed to have bad dreams, right?"

Robin stiffened as if slapped. "Everyone has nightmares sometimes," she said quietly.

Nami looked up at her for the first time, surprised. The candlelight cast deep shadows over her face, darkening her expression and making it difficult to understand what she was thinking. Her hands bunched up in the sheet that lay across her lap, and she dropped her gaze.

The air was heavy with awkward silence and hidden secrets. Robin was about to give up and change for bed when the navigator's shoulders slumped even farther.

"Today's the day my mother died," she said. "It's the first time I've been away from home. My sister and I would go to her grave together, but I'm way out here and she's on Cocoyashi, and…" Nami's voice cracked, and she buried her face in her hands. "It's _stupid_ , because Luffy beat Arlong and we're free now, but I miss her."

Whatever Robin had expected, it wasn't that. She'd pieced together enough of the Straw Hat's story to satisfy her curiosity, and knew that Luffy had liberated Nami's home village from a group of fishmen out in the East Blue. She hadn't realized that Nami's mother had been one of the casualties of their brutal rule. The revelation struck a little too close to home, and she felt a surge of empathy for the young navigator.

"I'm sorry," Robin said. "I had no idea."

"I didn't want to tell anybody," Nami said, sniffing piteously. "It was a long time ago, and I wouldn't be anywhere else but here with you guys, but…" her voice trailed off into nothingness.

"You miss her," Robin finished for her. "That's perfectly normal. You have no reason to apologize."

"I _know_ that, but sometimes it doesn't feel that way." Somehow she managed to crack a smile. "But you found out anyway. Thanks for not saying anything to the guys earlier. This isn't how I normally am, I promise."

"I know." Robin replied, if only because she didn't know what else to say. She felt the smallest bit embarrassed for assuming that she was the root of the navigator's resent insomnia. Though Robin had had the good sense not to say anything aloud, she still felt like she needed to make it up to her.

A memory tugged at the back of Robin's mind, and making a decision that she was sure to regret in the morning, she got up and sat beside the navigator. "Lie down," Robin said when Nami opened her mouth to ask what she was doing.

The navigator obeyed, and Robin drew the sheet up over her shoulders. Robin had known her mother for less than an hour, and though Olvia had been dead longer than Nami had been alive that did not stop Robin from missing her even now. How long had she wished that her grief didn't have to be a silent, hidden thing? How many times had she woken up as Nami had and wished for the comfort of another?

" _Mori mo iyagaru, Bon kara saki-nya_ _,_ _Yuki mo chiratsuku-shi, Ko mo naku-shi_ …" Robin sang softly, invoking the memory of her aunt singing the old Oharan lullaby to her ill cousin while Robin, also wracked with fever and chills, was left to fend for herself. " _…Bon ga kita-tote, Nani ureshi-karo_ _Katabira wa nashi, Obi wa nashi_ …"

Nami's eyes fluttered closed, her head sinking deeper into the pillow as she allowed herself to relax.

"… _Kono ko you naku, Mori wo ba ijiru Mori mo ichi-nichi, Yaseru-yara…"_

Each of the navigator's breaths deepened as she drifted off into a slumber. Robin brushed a tendril of hair out of her face, tucking it tenderly behind one ear.

"… _Hayo-mo yuki-taya, Kono zaisho koete_ _,_ _Mukou ni mieru wa, Oya no uchi_ _,_ _Mukou ni mieru wa, Oya no uchi."_

Robin allowed her hand to drop as the lullaby came to a close. A lump rose in her throat as feelings she hadn't allowed herself to feel in years bubbled to the surface unbidden.

It was foolish to indulge herself in this way, but Robin couldn't help herself. She hadn't been traveling with the Straw Hats long, but she had enough experience to know that they not an average pirate crew. It wouldn't be long until she were forced to leave them, but as Robin tried to stand, only to find Nami's hand clasped around her wrist…

"Stay?" she asked quietly. Robin hesitated for only a moment, before giving in entirely. Kicking off her shoes, she lay beside Nami. There wasn't much room on the small, narrow bed, but there was comfort, and at that moment that was the one thing they both sorely needed.

* * *

 **AN:** Words cannot express how much I love this prompt. Robin is my favorite Straw Hat, and I feel her friendship with Nami is severely underrated. I suppose you can look at this as shippy if you want to, but I prefer the "really good friends" interpretation. I suppose in canon they do share a bed, so…I don't know. Draw your own conclusions.

I stumbled upon the Lullaby of Takeda when looking up Japanese lullabies to go with this chapter. It's beautiful, the words are really sad, and it's got an interesting history. If that doesn't describe Robin I don't know what does.

Lastly, sorry about the lack of updates. I've started a new job and trying to adjust to a different schedule. I'm working 8 hour shifts again instead of 12s, so while I'm not so exhausted on my days off I get fewer of them. Still trying to find my new equilibrium with all the change.

As always, thanks for reading. Reviews make me the happiest of campers.


	7. Objection!

**Summary:** Zoro wasn't one to trust freely. One by one the Straw Hat Pirates prove themselves worthy of the flag they sail under.  
 **Rating** : K+ with a little swearing  
 **Spoilers:** Minor ones for the Whole Cake Island arc  
 **Head-canon:** Every time Luffy recruits a new crew member, Zoro secretly observes them as he pretends to sleep. While he has always acted very loyal or indifferent, he had actually disapproved of all the recruits. But he is always surprised when they prove him wrong (submitted by FearOfEscalators)

* * *

She was too greedy, and Zoro didn't approve.

It wasn't as if Zoro didn't respect Nami's ability. She was no warrior, but her specific skill set made her a valuable addition to the newly-formed Straw Hat Pirates. If she could be counted as a member of the Straw Hat Pirates. Which Zoro didn't. Not that he'd say as much to Luffy; it was his captain's decision whether or not he would let (force?) the self-admitted pirate thief travel with them. But trust had to be earned, and there was no way Zoro could ever trust a witch like Nami.

But then he visited Arlong Park. There he saw how far she would go to protect those she cared about, himself included. When they set sail again, Zoro had no objections.

xxx

He was too cowardly, and Zoro didn't approve.

Actually, that wasn't completely true. Zoro saw firsthand what Usopp was made of when the kid chose to face an entire pirate crew head-on, outmatched and outgunned, for the sake of a village that didn't seem to care for him. That took mettle. Guts. _Bravery._

Hell, it was Zoro who told him to quit stalling and get his ass on the _Going Merry_. Partly because he knew Luffy wasn't going to leave without him, but partly because he knew that this was where Usopp belonged.

Still…there was a part of Usopp that wanted to stay on Syrup Village, a fear that kept him from following Luffy wholeheartedly to the depths of hell itself. It was a subtle thing, but for a man like Zoro—whose own loyalty was absolute to the point of nearly being suicidal—it was plain as day.

But it took a real man to admit one's faults, and when Usopp finally apologized and rejoined the crew, Zoro had no objections.

xxx

He was too perverted, and Zoro didn't approve.

It was almost impossible for Zoro to describe everything about Sanji that irritated him. There was the way he got stupid around women, his stupid swirly eyebrow that sometimes Zoro couldn't help but stare at, the stupid smell of cigarette smoke that clung to everything it touched…the list went on.

Of course, Zoro was unconscious when Luffy recruited Sanji, and he felt a little cheated that he never had a chance to voice his protest. Zoro didn't even realize he was an official part of the crew until halfway through their attempt to rescue Nami, and once they got off on the wrong foot there was no going back. The cook was, in a word, annoying.

But even Zoro had to admit—grudgingly—that the Mr. Prince gambit was pretty good. The shitty cook's food was decent enough, and he did a serviceable job as one of the crew's frontline fighters. Once Luffy stopped the idiot's damn wedding and the Straw Hats were reunited once more, there would be no objections.

xxx

He was too young, and Zoro didn't approve.

Again Zoro was absent for most of the recruiting process, and most of his time on Drum Island was spent trying to find a serviceable coat. But the kid, Chopper, was so damn little. Sometimes literally. Doctor or not, the little fluff ball had no business on a pirate ship. Not when he was gullible enough to fall for Usopp's tall tales every single time.

But then Zoro fought Mr. 1, and it was up to Chopper to keep him from bleeding to death. It was a testament to his skill that no one—not even Nico Robin, who received her initial treatment elsewhere—stepped foot on Jaya with any new scars. And as Zoro resumed his training regimen with surprisingly little pain, he decided he had no objections.

xxx

She was a traitor, and Zoro didn't approve.

He didn't, couldn't, and would never think of Nico Robin as a crewmate. By this time he trusted Luffy enough to accept her as a sort of short-term traveling companion, but they would never share the bond of comradery. Never.

But instinct is a funny thing, and even after leaving Skypea he couldn't say why exactly he kept her from falling. Whatever it was, it was enough for him to fight a hopeless battle against a marine admiral and enough to cause a shadow of doubt within himself after the crew was accused of attempted murder. Zoro's gut feeling was vindicated on the rainy streets of Water 7, and he swore with the rest of the crew to get her back, no matter the cost.

They would set sail together again, and when they did, it would be with no objection.

xxx

He was an enemy, and Zoro didn't approve.

Or did he? Things got too muddled too quickly on the train ride between Water 7 and Enies Lobbies. Crewmates became enemies, enemies became allies, and Zoro couldn't be bothered to keep straight all the shifts in allegiance that took place over the course of a night.

The Franky Family were the ones who beat the crap out of Usopp and stole the Straw Hat's money. Normally Zoro wouldn't let that sort of thing slide, but somehow he still ended up watching stoically as a butt-naked Franky argued with Luffy in front of the entire city, wincing only when Robin decided to take matters into her own, er, hands _._

And as he toured the _Thousand Sunny_ for the first time, marveling quietly at the workmanship that went into it even though he didn't really understand it, Zoro decided he didn't have any objections.

xxx

He was too weird, and Zoro didn't approve.

Brook was Brook, and Luffy was Luffy. Zoro didn't know what else to say in his defense. For what it was worth, the skeleton had his uses. They never would have figured out the salt thing without him, nor the danger of sunlight for a shadowless body. That counted for something, even if the fifty years of isolation had knocked a screw or two loose.

But Zoro saw something during Brook's fight with Ryuma. Despite his skill with the blade, the old man wasn't a swordsman by trade, and he was easily outmatched by his own shadow. It was the sort of defeat that should have been shameful, until Zoro remembered Brook's goal was not to fight, but to be reunited with Laboon.

Zoro understood sacrificing pride for the sake of an impossible dream, and as he stepped in seconds before the bastard zombie cut Brook's hair, he decided he had no objections.

xxx

Zoro never approved, but it was not his duty to interfere with who Luffy invited to the crew. It said something about his captain that Luffy could see past the surface and always seemed to choose rightly. It was a puzzle Zoro could never figure out, but in the end, he had no objections.

* * *

 **AN** : I acknowledge I didn't follow this prompt to the letter, but with so many people in the crew that would be a long and rather disjointed chapter. I like the idea, and someone should make a series of it and then tell me so I can read it.

 **Author Question:** So those of you who read my fic _Life's Chapters_ know that I did an AU series, one of which had Kid!Robin and Kuzan teaming up and traveling together after Ohara. What you may not know is that because of the enthusiastic reader response I at one point in time was going to tweak the concept and turn it into a full-length fic of its own.

That never happened, mostly because I couldn't figure out how I wanted to start. HOWEVER! Not having a beginning didn't stop me from writing three or four chapters to varying levels of completion—which I recently found again while going through some files on my computer. Most of this writing doesn't hold up to my current Sarcasticles Gold Standard, but there is one chapter I'm rather fond of still.

So. Would you guys be interested in reading something like that? The problem what I have takes place in the latter part of the story, but I could easily give a summary of events leading up to that point (and a quick summary of how I wanted it to end). Otherwise almost 6000 words that's just going to sit collecting metaphorical dust. Also, since it's already written I could do a quick edit and have it posted tomorrow or the day after. Let me know one way or the other, and as always thanks for reading.


	8. Red Dawn

**AN:** It seems you all want to read a single chapter that comes from the ¾ mark of a forever abandoned story, and what can I do but oblige? I thought this chapter was 6000~ words, but it's actually north of 8000. Whoops. Guess that's more for you guys. As promised, here's a summary of events so far:

-Unlike _Life's Chapters_ , this starts a year after Ohara. The "nail" is the pirate crew Robin is staying with attempts to attack a much stronger crew (Shank's? He's from the West Blue but I'm not sure if the timeline matches) forcing her to go to the Grandline when she's only 9 years old  
-This reaches Marineford, and the higher ups promptly freak out. Sengoku puts together a special task force to apprehend the Demon Child, personally selecting Kuzan and Sakazuki to head the operation  
-The ambush goes well—except for once again Kuzan takes mercy on Nico Robin, and this time Sakazuki sees  
-In the ensuing fight Robin gets hit in the head, breaking her nose and giving her a concussion. Kuzan takes her and flees, and Robin is forced to rely on him until she recovers (and Kuzan sucks at setting broken noses)  
-Sengoku gives Sakazuki permission to go on a "Hunt", a special marine operation where Sakazuki chases after Kuzan and Robin  
-Shenanigans ensue, Robin distrusts Kuzan, Kuzan doesn't know how to be a responsible adult, Sakazuki is grouchy, Jonathan from the G-8 filler makes a cameo, and after a while Sengoku ends up joining the Hunt  
-Eventually Kuzan and Robin stumble across an island that is occupied by one of the Warlords of the Sea, an OC of mine named Whit Barghest, the "Demon Dog" who ate the legendary zoan fruit that turns him into a hellhound. No one knows why Whit is on the island, but everyone agrees that he shouldn't be  
-Whit is an honorable sort and takes his responsibility to the Government seriously, so he tries to catch Robin. Kuzan starts a fight so Robin can flee, only for Whit's sister, known as the Hellcat, to give chase  
-Kuzan barely wins, and Robin manages to hamstring the Hellcat with her own knife, only for Sakazuki and co. to show up immediately after  
-Kuzan fights Sengoku despite being so beat up he can barely stand. He's promptly beat up more and captured while Robin watches from the forest  
-Robin feels guilty and busts him out of the holding cell on the marine's ship. Sakazuki sees them and launches a magma fist that explodes the docks, Sengoku forces him to pull back once word comes in that Whitebeard is in the area, and then, to conclude what has been a very bad day for our heroes…

* * *

The only sane thought that went through Robin's mind as Kuzan collapsed on top of her was that he was very heavy, and trapped beneath his weight is was very hard to breathe.

The rest of her was in a panic. Kuzan had been beaten senseless by an _admiral_ , incarcerated by his mortal enemy _vice admiral_ , and now had a chunk of wood nearly a foot long sticking out of his back because he had been trying to protect _her._

"No, no, nonono _no_ ," Robin moaned once she had freed herself from underneath Kuzan's unconscious body. Hesitantly she touched the wood, not daring to remove it. The giant splinter—the remains of the pier or the docks or a boat—was all that kept him from bleeding to death. " _Not again_."

Robin couldn't handle being alone again.

But Kuzan didn't stir. He had taken the blow directly, not acting his logia defenses on purpose. Because of _her_. It was Robin's fault Kuzan was hurt, just like before when he had engaged the admiral even though he knew he was outclassed, trying to give her a chance to run away.

" _No_ ," Robin repeated more forcefully as she tried to steel herself. Kuzan was still alive. There had to be something she could do, some way she could save him. Robin wasn't the same helpless girl who had fled while her home burned. She had over a year of real world experience, and she refused to let him die.

Calling up arms, Robin put pressure on the wound, fighting desperately against the urge to be sick with fear and horror as crimson liquid stained her fingers. Every time Kuzan took a wet, shuddering breath that sounded oh so _wrong_ Robin concentrated on the fact _he wasn't dead yet_. She forced every other thought away as she used her power to sprout legs under Kuzan's torso and stumbled away from the beach.

Traveling as quickly as she dared, Robin transported Kuzan back to the cover of the forest. Setting him down as gently as she could, Robin wiped her hands against her pants in an attempt to get rid of the warm, wet feeling that was being transferred from her phantom arms.

Hidden from any eyes that might want to kill them, Robin stared at Kuzan, at a momentary loss. He had already been hurt so badly. She remembered the awkward, hunched way he had walked after being freed from the vice admiral's ship and the confused slur to his speech. There was no telling what other damage had been done during his fight with the admiral, or if old wounds from his fight with the Warlord had reopened.

Robin shook the dark thoughts away. Gathering the scraps of her fraying courage, she took out the knife she had stolen from the Hellcat and began cutting long strips away from Kuzan's trench coat. With shaking hands she applied the makeshift bandages as best she could, her chest clenching as blood continued to seep through the cloth. Kneeling down, Robin grabbed one of his wrists. It was even colder than usual, but a quick check confirmed he still had a pulse.

He needed a doctor. Robin did not have the skill or tools needed to remove the jagged wood that pierced through skin and muscle, just below his shoulder blade. She did not have the medicine that would keep infection away if by some miracle he managed to live through the night.

Who would treat a notorious criminal, especially at the request of the Demon Child? Blinking back tears, Robin's mind whirled. If no doctor would heal Kuzan voluntarily, she would _force_ them. She would beg, bribe, and threaten whoever it took to save his life.

Robin squeezed Kuzan's hand, swallowing hard around the lump in her throat. "Don't die," she whispered. "Please don't leave me. I'm sorry I screwed up. I'll…I'll fix this, I promise. Just don't die."

It was probably her imagination, but Robin thought she felt Kuzan's fingers twitch in her hands. Something broke deep within her, and all of the emotion she had tried so hard to bury came flooding out. She sniffed as tears streaked down her face. Still holding Kuzan's hand, Robin wiped them away and tried to stop crying. But it was impossible to catch all of the fear and helplessness to make it go away again, and the sobs continued.

She couldn't stay here crying like a baby until he bled dry. Standing, Robin tried to think. Should she carry Kuzan like before, or would that worsen his injury? It would be faster to travel by herself, but if she left him here he would be totally vulnerable to, well, anything, and she would be forced waste time backtracking once she found help. At the same time, it wasn't as if she could just parade Kuzan's unconscious form around town. Admiral Sengoku might have mercy on his former subordinate, but Vice Admiral Sakazuki and his men would kill them on sight.

Feeling lost and out of her depth, Robin covered her eyes with her hands, not caring that she smeared blood on her face. There wasn't enough _time_ , she didn't _know_ enough, and the thought that _she_ was the only thing that kept Kuzan from certain death threatened to overwhelm her.

But there was no time. Not to dawdle, and not to circle back with a doctor. Decision made, Robin bit her bottom lip and silently apologized for any pain she was about to cause. Carefully she sprouted legs underneath Kuzan, ready to carry him to town.

A branch snapped behind her. Robin whipped around, grabbing her knife. With a few whispered words eyes spread throughout the forest, bombarding her mind with images from every direction. It took precious seconds to sift through the sensory input, and it was almost too late when she saw two men heading her direction, not even one hundred yards away.

Making a snap decision, Robin hid Kuzan as best she could in some foliage and went to cut off the men. She hadn't recognized them in her admittedly-limited view, but they weren't dressed like marines. Spreading eyes ahead, Robin tried to get a read on these new, mysterious enemies. Both were muscular and walked with a poised balance that made her think that they had quite a bit of experience fighting. One—who appeared to be the younger of the two, hardly more than a teenager—wore a sword at his hip. The other had no visible weapons and sauntered along with his hands in his pockets, his eyes sweeping back and forth as if he were looking for something. That didn't bode well. Adding ears, Robin listened into their conversation.

"I'm just saying," the younger said, pausing to pull a twig out of his large brown pompadour. "That explosion definitely means something."

The other raked his fingers through a mop of shaggy blond hair. " _Obviously_. But what? Who would be crazy enough…" the man trailed off, looking directly at one of the trees that hid Robin's phantom appendages.

"Uh, boss?"

"I know you're there!" the blond called, ignoring his companion entirely. "You can't hide from me, whoever you are!" Sharp eyes belied the man's sleepy expression, and Robin had the sinking feeling that these two men weren't to be trifled with.

Shrinking down behind a tree, Robin came up with and discarded several ideas in quick succession. Were she alone, Robin knew she could use the cover of the forest to stay away from the men until they lost interest. But there was Kuzan to consider, poorly hidden and clinging to life. Pulling her knees up to her chest, Robin desperately tried to think of a solution with a positive outcome.

"Found you."

"Gah!" Robin slashed her knife blindly and tried to scramble to her feet at the same time. Where had he come from? She had seen both men just seconds ago nowhere near her position, and her eyes were never wrong.

"Hey now, let's not go crazy here," the blond said, dodging easily. "I'm not going to hurt you."

That's what they all said at first. Robin turned to run, and nearly hit the swordsman. He looked at her, concern in his dark eyes. "That's quite the pig-sticker you've got."

"And I'm not afraid to use it," she said, holding the knife in front of her with shaking hands.

"I'm sure. Is that blood yours? Are you hurt somewhere?"

Robin looked at him, bewildered. Then she glanced down at her shirt. It was dirty, with dark stains where she had wiped her hands. Blood had dried in the crevices of her hands and under her nails. She could only imagine what she must look like to these two men.

"Hey…" the swordsman said, squinting at her, eyes flickering with recognition. "Aren't you…?"

"Yes," Robin interrupted coldly, once again pointing the knife in a threatening manner. "And if you recognize me, then you must know what I'm capable of."

The blond snaked around behind her and plucked the weapon right out of her hands. "Cute, but no pirate worth his salt is going to be intimidated by a little girl waving around a blade she obviously doesn't know how to use."

Robin was about ready to snap that she was nine years old, hardly a little girl, when she saw the tattoo spread proudly across the man's chest. It was partially hidden by his half-buttoned shirt, but there was no mistaking that mark.

"Y-you're part of Whitebeard's crew," she said, paling as the man's face was suddenly familiar. "You're Marco the Phoenix."

"Perceptive. Now, if you were _really_ smart you would know that this island is part of Pop's territory, and he doesn't care for things like, say, giant explosions ruining his reputation. Now, you obviously know something. Just tell us what happened, and we'll let you go. Heck, I'll even give you your knife back. Sound like a deal?"

Robin took a step back, preparing to call on her power, when a strong hand clasped on her shoulder. The swordsman glanced at the Phoenix, his eyes grave. "Hey, man, I think I feel something. It's really faint, though, hardly more than a whisper."

The Phoenix closed his eyes for a moment. "I think you're right. That way?" he asked, pointing in the direction where Robin had hidden Kuzan.

"Yeah."

"No!" Robin cried. "You can't!"

Marco the Phoenix whirled around, the sleepy look in his eyes replaced by an intense glare. "Listen very carefully, kid, I don't know what happened here, but I'm going to find out. People were hurt tonight, and it's the Whitebeard Pirate's job to protect this place." His gaze flickered to his companion. "Thatch, make sure she doesn't run away."

"You're the boss." The swordsman squeezed Robin's shoulder in a way that might have been comforting if he weren't a complete stranger. "Come on girlie, you heard the man." Bending down he gave her a crooked smile. "He's not nearly as mean as he looks," he stage-whispered. "All this bad business has just got his panties in a bunch."

"Thatch!"

"Coming, boss!"

Utterly confused, Robin allowed herself to be led back the way she came. The men seemed to know right where they were going, making a direct line for Kuzan. Robin didn't know what to do. Marco the Phoenix was the first mate to the World's Strongest Man, with a bounty to match. She couldn't recall ever seeing a bounty on the swordsman, but if he was trusted to perform sensitive missions with Whitebeard's highest commander then he _had_ to be more dangerous than he appeared.

Apprehension mounting with every step, Robin tried to come up with a plan of action. Nothing particularly inspired came to mind. She couldn't fight her way out, and they somehow knew where Kuzan was.

"It wasn't our fault," Robin said, hating the way it sounded like she was begging for them to understand. "The marines…the marines are the ones who made the docks explode."

"Oh?" the Phoenix asked skeptically. "And why's that? We've got a very good understanding with the local boys in white. They wouldn't want to mess that up."

"Not the local ones, Vice Admiral Sakazuki. He's crazy," Robin mumbled. "Admiral Sengoku was there, too, but I don't think he had anything to do with it."

"And why do you think that?" Thatch asked gently.

"The vice admiral's Devil Fruit by itself is strong enough to make the explosion," Robin said, the words coming out all in a jumble. "And he hates Ku—he hates criminals."

If the swordsman noticed Robin catching herself, he didn't show it. "That's true. I've been told that guy has a stick up his butt the size of the _Moby Dick's_ mast. Doesn't much like honoring deals with pirates either, right Marco?"

"Hm, what? Oh, no, not at all. He would be one to interfere with an Emperor's territory if he thought Justice needed to be served. The idiot." He slowed, then looked down at Robin strangely. "That reminds me, I thought all the papers were saying that ex-marine was traveling with you. Where is he?"

Robin closed her eyes miserably. These men seemed to believe her, but she had experienced so much deception in her life. They _acted_ nice, or at least Thatch did, but they were _pirates_. They were pirates under Whitebeard himself. There was no way, under any circumstances, she could trust them.

"Holy crap, Marco, do you see that?"

Thatch left her side and ran to where she had hidden Kuzan. Marco was right behind him, brushing the younger pirate aside so he could get a better look at the horrible wound. A fresh wave of panic tore through Robin. Crossing her arms into an X formation, she called extra arms and pushed Marco as hard as she could, catching him off guard and making him stumble. Rushing forward, she put herself between the Whitebeard Pirates and Kuzan.

"Stop!" she shouted, her voice cracking. "I won't let you hurt him."

"I'm not going to hurt him," Marco said, brushing some dirt off his pants. "Not more than he already is. Who did this? I heard he was a logia."

The question cut past all her defenses. Robin looked down and didn't answer, ashamed that her weakness had caused Kuzan so much harm.

Thatch kneeled down beside her. "We've got doctors on the _Moby Dick_ , some of the best in the world. Let Marco take a look, kid."

Resolve crumbling, Robin allowed Thatch to pull her aside. Marco sat next to Kuzan, long fingers peeling away the makeshift bandages, and he let out a surprised hiss at what he saw.

"Thatch, we need to make a stretcher. Get two long straight branches. You," he commanded, pointing to Robin, "Use that ability you just showed off and hold pressure. We need to get him to the ship as soon as possible."

Robin did as she was told, not understanding why they were helping her. The two pirates moved briskly and efficiently, using Marco's shirt to sling two branches together. Looking at their handiwork, Marco frowned unhappily.

"It's not ideal, and damn if he isn't tall, but it'll have to do."

Carefully they moved Kuzan, whose complexion had taken on a ghastly grey color, on the stretcher. When he breathed there was a deep rattling noise in his chest that made Robin want to curl up in a hole and disappear forever. That done, Marco eyes darted between Thatch and Robin. "We'll be moving fast. She can't fall behind."

He nodded sharply. "Gotcha, boss." With a swift movement Thatch pulled Robin onto his back, ignoring her yelp of protest and not caring she got his pristine white shirt dirty. "It'll be faster this way."

Blushing with mortification, Robin hid her face in Thatch's shoulder. Her phantom hands were still pressing the wad of cloth against Kuzan's back. She could _feel_ his lifeblood seeping through her fingers. It was sickening, but now that he was getting help a small spark of hope began to flicker in her heart.

Robin clung desperately to that hope.

xxx

"What the hell was that?" Sengoku slammed his hands on the table, leaning close to Sakazuki. The admiral was seriously questioning his subordinate's judgment, and one look was all that was needed to tell that the idiot was unrepentant of his mistake. "Do you know what you've done?!"

"I was doing what was necessary to apprehend a criminal, sir," Sakazuki said stiffly. "And I would have had them both if you hadn't stopped me."

"Forget about Kuzan and the Demon Child!" Sengoku roared. "I _told_ you at the start that this was _my_ operation, and I expected you to obey my every command to the letter. I _told_ you as long as we were in these waters that the kiddie gloves were on. I _told_ you to do _nothing_ that might draw Whitebeard's attention! Not every problem can be solved by throwing your Devil Fruit at it, Sakazuki, and even if the blast did manage to kill them, you've endangered civilian lives! Now what do you have to say for yourself?"

A muscle twitched in the vice admiral's jaw. "I thought that you, of all people, would have understood. For Justice to be served sacrifices must be made. Risks need to be taken."

Sengoku drew rigid. "You thought wrong. If you ever want to have any hope of an admiral position you had best learn how to play the long game. Instigating an attack with a low chance of success isn't worth the loss of innocents or Whitebeard's wrath. Now get out of my sight."

Sakazuki saluted stiffly, and Sengoku was chagrined to see _disappointment_ in his subordinate's eyes, as if he had somehow been let down. Turning sharply on his heel, Sakazuki left, standing just as proudly as before despite the reprimand.

With a long-suffering sigh, Sengoku slid into a chair. With his whole plan shot to hell, he tried to think of a way to salvage the mess Sakazuki made. Rubbing his temples, he resisted the urge to repeatedly hit his head on the table. He couldn't really blame it on Sakazuki, not all of it, anyway. It was because of _his_ short-sighted nostalgia that the Demon Child managed to free Kuzan. The fault ultimately rested with him.

Still, what _had_ Sakazuki been thinking? The reckless use of his Devil Fruit was something that he would have expected out of Garp, not the normally levelheaded vice admiral. There would have to be a PR cover up, of course, but a wily veteran like Whitebeard wouldn't be fooled by what the papers said.

They couldn't even help with the recovery efforts. Not with the _Moby Dick_ having already beenspotted in the area.

 _I thought you, of all people, would have understood._

Realization hit Sengoku like a ton of bricks. Sakazuki was alluding to Ohara, when thousands had been killed for the sins of a few. The loss of civilian life hadn't been planned for, but it certainly didn't come as a surprise. An entire island erased from the map, all in the attempt to prevent the destruction of the world.

A threat that Sengoku was now forced to admit would probably never have come to fruition.

What made this different, then? It wasn't the needless loss of life, it was _Whitebeard_. Sengoku feared the wrath of an Emperor more than he respected the lives of the innocent. To insist otherwise to Sakazuki was nothing short of hypocritical.

Blood draining from his face, Sengoku stared vacantly at the wall. "Oh my God. What have I done?"

xxx

They made it to Whitebeard's ship in good time, moving quickly through the forest. It had been anchored near the ruined pier. Robin tightened her grip when she saw the blackened wreckage, smoke still billowing into the sky, but Thatch didn't seem to notice. It looked as if the fires had been put out, and dozens of people milled about the beach, some dressed like normal citizens while others were obviously pirates.

At the sight of them, a few broke away and came over. Seeing the stretcher, one opened his mouth to ask a question but Marco cut him off. "Find Dr. Malidy and her team, now. Someone get Pops, too." The man hesitated, and the strangely intense look that had been present in the forest returned to Marco's face. " _Now_ , Teach. This man needs to go to surgery right away."

The large man blinked. "Uh, yeah, sure," he said dumbly before stumbling away. After a sharp look, another man ran off with a muttered, "I'll find Pops," and Marco gave an exasperated sigh.

"Come on. Almost there."

"How are we going to get him out to the ship?" Thatch asked quietly. "It'll be kind of awkward climbing the ladder."

"Don't worry about that. I'll take care of it."

Helpless anxiety gnawed at Robin as they set Kuzan down. Marco bit at his thumbnail, eyes narrowed in thought. Thatch helped Robin back to the ground, looking at his superior expectantly. After a moment, Marco nodded to himself, and turned to Robin.

"Okay, you did good, but I need you to stop using your fruit for a minute and take a step back."

"Why?" she asked, voice sharp with fear.

"Because I'm pretty sure that from here the ship is out of your range, and the extra arms make things harder to balance. You'll stay here while I take him over, and come aboard the normal way with Thatch. Understand?"

 _No_. "I can't leave him. I…I can't…"

"Kid," Marco interrupted firmly, "I can't carry you both at the same time. Now take a step back. Thatch will bring you to the ship right away. Right?"

"That's right, boss."

Reluctantly Robin backed away, tears prickling at the corners of her eyes. "That's a good girl," Marco said approvingly. "You might want to cover your eyes; things are going to get bright in a couple of seconds."

"Please don't hurt him," she whispered.

"I won't. Blue flames don't burn." Suddenly Marco changed shape, turning into his namesake. Robin fought the urge to once again put herself between the zoan user and Kuzan. Despite Marco's insistence, the blue-gold fire that rolled off his body looked just as deadly as a natural blaze.

But Robin had to trust him, she didn't have a choice. There was nothing she could do to help Kuzan. That feeling of powerlessness made her insides twist into knots. So she watched Marco carefully gather Kuzan in his talons and take to the air, fervently praying that the doctor Whitebeard employed was a good one.

xxx

In the ten minutes it took to get to the _Moby Dick_ Kuzan had already been whisked away into surgery. Despite relief that he was finally getting the help he needed, Robin felt almost cheated. She hadn't been able to properly prepare herself, and the magnitude of Kuzan's injuries suddenly seemed to weigh a thousand pounds on her soul. Robin had never told him everything he meant to her, until recently she was too lost to see it for herself, and now if things went…poorly…she would never get the chance.

She had been so stupid and blind. Kuzan was one of the few people to ever show her any appreciation or kindness, and never had she bothered to say thank you. He had saved her life so many times, and the only thing she had done in return is nearly get him killed.

"Hey, kid, how about a quick wash?" Thatch's soft voice cut through Robin's spiraling thoughts.

"Wash?"

"You know, the act of getting clean? You look as if you could use it," he prompted. "It'll probably make you feel better, too."

That was highly doubtful. Robin shook her head. "No, I-I have to stay here. In case something happens."

"Hey, none of that. The doc's one of the best. She's kept all us miscreants alive through our various misadventures. I hear the ex-vice admiral's strong. He'll make it through."

Robin wanted to believe him so badly it hurt. "It's my fault," she said, her voice small.

"I thought you said that the marines caused the explosion?"

"They did, but…"

"But nothing," Thatch interrupted. "Logic says that if the marines initiated the giant explosion, then you can't possibly be responsible for the injuries caused by said explosion. It's practically science."

Robin looked up at him blankly.

He sighed. "Trust me, kid, it's not your fault. Now, how about a shower?"

Robin nodded half-heartedly, knowing he wouldn't let it go until she agreed. A large grin spread across Thatch's face, and before she knew it Robin was whisked away to the bathroom.

The _Moby Dick_ was one of the largest ships she had ever seen, and it was certainly the largest ship she had actually been on. Thatch led Robin into the bowels of the ship, around several twists and turns, until she was hopelessly lost. As she was shown through the door that opened to the gigantic shower room it struck Robin that they could have Kuzan hidden away anywhere, doing any number of horrible things to his injured body. Robin pretended to pay attention as he showed her how the water worked, and politely nodded when he promised to return with some clothes. As soon as Thatch left, Robin leaned against the door and closed her eyes, calling upon her power.

Sprouting eyes in unknown locations was awkward and time consuming. She had to go room by room, forced to guess where there might be a viable surface to make eyes grow. After several minutes Robin gave up, stripped off her clothes, and got in the shower, frustrated by her initial lack of success but not wanting to make anyone suspicious by taking too long.

The warm water was bliss. Dirt and blood washed off her tired, sore body, and the spray seemed to suck all the energy right out of her limbs. Robin allowed herself to loose herself in the wonderful feeling for only a moment before she grabbed the soap and began to clean herself.

She attacked the blood on her hands with a particular vengeance, tears mixing with the shower water. It was okay to let go here where no one could see her weakness. The tears were cleansing in their own way, helping wash away some of the ugliness she felt on the inside.

After a while, Robin just leaned against the wall and relaxed. Taking a deep breath she activated her power again, searching for Kuzan. She took her time, spreading eyes from room to room. Finally she found him.

A group of people in surgical attire were huddled around a table where Kuzan lay. They spoke to one another using words she did not know, moving with the precision and efficiency of a well-trained team. Kuzan was hooked to several machines to help him breathe and measure his heartbeat, and the rhythmic beeping helped assure Robin that he was still alive.

Robin released her power. The whole scene might as well have been gibberish for all she understood, but near as she could tell Whitebeard's doctor was actually trying to help. Letting out a sob of relief Robin waited until she had gotten herself under some semblance of control before finally shutting off the water.

Stepping out of the shower and into a fluffy towel, she was surprised to find a set of clothes laid out for her. Just how Thatch had procured a pair of shorts and shirt that would fit so quickly would forever remain a mystery, but they were soft and only a little too big. Strangely touched, Robin smoothed out the imaginary wrinkles from the t-shirt.

The Whitebeard Pirates were being much too nice. As she ran a comb through her hair Robin tried to figure out what they were trying to gain. Did they believe she had the power to destroy the world and think they could learn her secrets through kindness? Or did they want Kuzan's inside knowledge about the marines? Or maybe they were playing a different game entirely, and she was too tired to figure it out.

Clean and presentable, Robin opened the door, revealing the young swordsman. Eyes twinkling impishly, Thatch grinned. "Aw, now don't you look adorable?" he teased. "And like promised, there's been no word from your friend."

There was no way she could tell him that Kuzan was much more than a _friend_ , so she just nodded tiredly. "Thank you."

"No problem, kiddo. You ready to go back up?"

"Yes, please."

"All right. Stay close, I know the ship can be confusing for those who don't know their way around."

Robin couldn't tell if it was a veiled threat or not, so she nodded and silently followed Thatch back up to the deck. Once there, he scratched his chin, glancing at her sidelong.

"Okay, what next? You hungry? Or maybe sleep? You do look rather knackered."

"I'm not tired," Robin lied.

Thatch looked at her skeptically but didn't argue the point. "Oookay. Maybe a sandwich then?"

"I'm not hungry either."

"Okay, how about…"

"She comes with me."

Robin nearly jumped out of her skin at the low, gravely voice. A shadow passed overhead, and Robin looked up at the second largest man she had ever seen. Old white scars crisscrossed a bare, muscular chest, the man's skin weathered by age and the sun. A large crescent-shaped mustache that was nearly as famous as the man himself cut across his face. But most striking, perhaps, were his eyes: yellow and intense as a hawk honing in on its prey. Whitebeard's gaze held an incredible amount power and intelligence, as befitting of the World's Strongest Man.

"Oh hi, Pops, didn't see you there!" Thatch said jovially.

Whitebeard gave his subordinate an approving nod, and turned his attention back to Robin. She took an involuntary step backwards, her mouth suddenly dry.

"Come with me, Nico Robin."

Robin cringed at the sound of her own name, and Thatch put an arm around her shoulders. "Pops, she's had a rough day, maybe I could—"

"No, I must speak to Robin alone." Whitebeard extended a hand. "It won't take long."

Thatch nudged her forward, and Robin eyes flickered between Whitebeard's stern face and his outstretched arm. With supreme reluctance she reached up and placed her hand in his comparatively huge one. Whitebeard then led her towards his captain's quarters. Robin spared a quick glance at Thatch, who gave her an enthusiastic thumbs up, before diverting her gaze to the ground.

The room was massive, as expected. Whitebeard pulled out a normal sized chair for her to sit in before walking around a table full of maps, inkwells, and a large tray with drinks and snack food. He brushed the paper aside and offered Robin a mug of steaming hot chocolate from the tray. It even had marshmallows.

The gesture was so unexpected she forgot her manners. Robin gaped at the drink as if she had never seen a mug before in her life, unable to work her tongue properly to say thank you.

"It's better if you drink it," he said dryly. Robin obediently took a sip. It was the perfect temperature, with a rich flavor she had never tasted before. With an approving grunt, Whitebeard plated her half a sandwich and some apple slices. "Thatch may be a young fool at times, but he's right about one thing: You need to eat."

"Yes, sir," Robin said meekly, reaching for a piece of apple. A moment ago she hadn't been hungry, but at the sight of the food her stomach protested loudly. "Thank you for everything you've done."

Whitebeard slid her knife across the table. "And I believe this belongs to you as well."

Robin froze, hot chocolate halfway to her mouth. "You're giving it back?"

"It is yours, isn't it?"

"Yes," Robin said, snatching it up before he had a chance to change his mind. "I took it from the Hellcat when she attacked me." Robin didn't know why she felt the need to give up such information. One look at the mark on the handle would show it wasn't _really_ hers, but something about Whitebeard made her want to explain.

"A knife can be a useful tool. Make sure you handle it responsibly."

Remembering her wild attack against Marco, she blushed. "I'm sorry," she mumbled. "They caught me off guard."

"Gurarara!" Whitebeard's booming laugh reverberated through the room, making the tray of food rattle. "I'm sure they did. But that's water under the bridge." He looked down at her, the humor leaving his face. "I need to know exactly how you came to this island, and the events that led to your mishap with the marines."

Robin clutched her knife so hard her knuckles turned white. "Why are you helping us? Marco said this island is your territory, and it's only because of me and Kuzan that the marines attacked."

"And now that punk's under the care of my best doctor and I've given you your weapon back." Whitebeard leaned back in his chair. "There are several reasons, Nico Robin, the most important of which is that I owe the Deserter a debt."

"A debt?" Robin repeated, brow furrowing in confusion.

"Yes, it seems like you two took care of an annoyance for me recently. The only reason why we're in these seas at all was to remove the Warlord who implanted himself on one of my trade routes. We found when we got here that someone had done the job for me." Whitebeard took a sandwich for himself. "According to the law of the sea the Whitebeard Pirates owe Kuzan a debt of honor."

"Oh," Robin said softly, his explanation doing little to ease her confusion. She had never before heard of pirates with honor, but—as a quick peek with her eyes confirmed—Kuzan was still in surgery and Whitebeard hadn't tried to hurt her. "It's…it's a long story."

Whitebeard pulled a giant jug of sake out from under the desk and took a drink. "I'm listening."

Slowly, choosing her words with great care, Robin told Whitebeard of their adventures over the last several months. She recalled everything from Kuzan's fight with the Warlord Barghest to his encounter and subsequent capture by Admiral Sengoku to Robin's rescue attempt.

"…and we saw the vice admiral's attack too late. Kuzan…Kuzan protected me," Robin took a shuddering breath. Telling her story had been exhausting, and now it was all she could do to keep her eyes open. There was a leaden heaviness in her chest, too, as she thought of all the close calls they had recently. Robin had been so convinced that Kuzan was invincible, but now she was forced to accept the painful truth. "I took him into the forest for cover. I don't know what would have happened if Marco and Thatch hadn't found me."

Whitebeard had been silent through Robin's tale, looking at her in a way where she couldn't quite discern what he was thinking. "But they did, so there's no use worrying about 'what could have been'." He paused, his eyes softening. "You've handled yourself well. There are many adults who couldn't have done as much. How old are you?"

"Nine."

He sighed unhappily. "Thank you for sharing your story. I have only one more question for tonight: What is Kuzan's interest in you?"

Robin stiffened. "What do you mean?"

"It's highly unusual for a vice admiral to defect the marines for seemingly no reason. Has he hurt you in any way? Tried to take advantage of you?"

It took a few seconds for Robin's tired mind to grasp Whitebeard's hidden implication. Her eyes widened in horror at the thought. "What? No! No, never! Kuzan…Kuzan _saved_ me. He would never…" Her stomach churned just thinking about it. "He would never hurt me."

"I believe you," Whitebeard assured her. "But understand, I needed to be sure. Now, I've asked my questions. Is there anything you would like to ask me?"

"What's going to happen to Kuzan?" Robin asked.

"I don't know," Whitebeard said honestly. "Logias are…different. Their bodies can be unpredictable at times. But Doctor Malidy is the best I have and has treated countless injuries. Have faith."

Robin nodded wearily and blinked the tears away. Whitebeard took the cue and led her back out to the deck where Thatch waited. The young man perked up at the sight of them, ever-present smile spread across his face.

"Everything go okay?"

"Yes. Thatch, why don't you lead the young lady to the sleeping quarters?" Whitebeard said.

"You got it, Pops! Come on, girlie, you look about dead on your feet."

"I need to know if something happens to Kuzan," Robin insisted, her voice feeble.

Thatch and Whitebeard shared a significant look, and Thatch gently took Robin by the arm and guided her to the railing of the _Moby Dick_. There wasn't a cloud in the sky, and the light of the moon reflected off of the water.

"As you can probably tell by that giant piece of cheese in the sky, it's pretty late. Hell, _I'm_ tired and I've only been up since noon. When was the last time you slept?"

"I don't know. But if something happens—"

"I'll wake you up," he promised. "But kid, I don't think Kuzan would want you to run yourself ragged because of him. I know I wouldn't."

It was a dirty, underhanded move, but the guilt tactic worked. The last of her resistance gone, Robin slumped her shoulders. "You promise?"

"Pirate's honor," he said, raising his hand in total solemnity. "Now to bed, or I'll be forced to carry you again!"

Robin managed the smallest of smiles and followed Thatch. Just because she was being forced to bed didn't mean she had to sleep. She could still use her power to watch Kuzan's progress from wherever they ended up putting her for the night.

The plan, while clever, held up for all of five minutes. As she lay in the comfortable bed in the women's quarters, exhaustion overtook her and Robin fell into a deep slumber.

xxx

Sakazuki stared into his glass of scotch. He had been so close, only for his prey to slither from his grasp yet again. He had _seen_ the little demon scurry away to the forest, using that thrice-cursed Devil Fruit to carry the Deserter, only for Sengoku to hold him back.

It was infuriating, especially since his superior seemed incapable of seeing the big picture. Whitebeard and his men were nothing compared to the destruction that the Oharan could bring upon the world. That was the point of the massacre in the first place. Without complete eradication the archeologist's poison would only spread, corrupting otherwise good men into breaking the law.

Men like Kuzan. And, apparently, men like Sengoku. There was no other explanation for the admiral refusing to pursue sworn enemies of the government. Somehow, without anyone realizing it, the Demon Child had weakened the Buddha's Justice. Only the worst of evils could have accomplished such a thing, and Sakazuki was determined to bring it to an end by any means necessary.

The question was _how_. Sengoku outranked him and carried considerable clout with his peers. Sakazuki couldn't just start telling everyone that he had been compromised, even if the accusation was founded. So far the signs were subtle, nearly impossible to see unless you were looking for them. And no one was looking to see if Admiral Sengoku had fallen. The idea sounded ludicrous even to Sakazuki, though he had seen the truth with his own eyes.

He could only wait and bide his time, quietly gathering the evidence needed until the day came where expose Sengoku for what he really was: A fraud, instigator of injustice, abettor of criminals and traitors alike…

Sakazuki downed the rest of his drink. The Hunt would continue. He had been foiled this time, but now he knew he couldn't follow anything but his own Justice. Not doing so put the entire world at risk.

xxx

Robin awoke from her nightmare with a start, going completely still in the unfamiliar room until she remembered where she was. The dream was of the usual sort, the one where she was being continually chased by shadow-men who wanted to kill her, but was no less terrifying in its familiarity. She took a few deep breathes, calming herself until it didn't feel as if her heart was going to race out of her chest. Slowly her eyes adjusted to the darkness.

No one had woken her up with news about Kuzan. Was that because he had made it through surgery okay, or did they not want to inform her of the worst until she was rested? Biting her lip, Robin called on her power. She nearly went into a panic when he wasn't in the same room as before, until the sensible part of her brain reminded her that Whitebeard's doctors probably wouldn't keep him in the surgery suite after they had finished with the surgery.

Robin once again played a highly morbid form of hide-and-seek, searching Whitebeard's vast ship with her eyes for Kuzan. Luckily this time he was a little easier to find, as the infirmary was very close to the surgery. There was only one bed occupied, and though the figure was obscured behind machines and hidden beneath layers of bandages there was no mistaking who it was. Kuzan was alive.

A knot of worry unclenched in Robin's stomach. After a moment to make sure no one was watching her, she rolled out of the very soft, very comfortable bed. Carefully Robin slunk out of the room, trying to make as little noise as possible.

If anyone noticed her departure from the woman's quarters, they didn't say anything. It was dawn, and reddish light streaked through the wispy early morning clouds. Shuddering from the early morning cold, Robin was reminded of the old rhyme used to predict the weather.

 _Red sky in morning, sailor take warning_

Using her eyes to avoid the few people awake so early in the morning, Robin snuck into the infirmary. With one last fugitive glance to _really_ make sure no one was watching, she rushed by Kuzan's side. He still looked awful, hooked up to breathing equipment and IVs, his skin paler than it should be, but it was a million times better than the last time she had seen him. Clean white bandages were wrapped around his entire torso, and there was even a tube draining blood out of his chest into a collection container.

Tentatively, Robin grabbed one of his hands. It was cold, just like always. She stood like that for a while, just listening to him breathe. She squeezed his hand, trying to reassure herself more than anything. "I'm here," she whispered. "We're safe now."

This time there was no mistaking it when Kuzan's fingers tightened around her own.

At that moment Robin knew with complete certainty that he would be fine, and would have cried except the door to the infirmary burst open. The unexpected noise made Robin flinch and she jerked her head up to the scowling face of an unfamiliar woman.

"What's this?" the woman asked as she took a pipe out of her mouth. She wore a wrinkled white lab coat that looked to be fraying at the sleeves. Robin guessed her to be in her fifties, her narrowed eyes were framed by deep crow's feet and her mass of brown hair was greying at the temples. "They said you were asleep."

"Who are you?"

The woman waved her hand absentmindedly. "Name's Minerva Malidy, I'm the head doctor for this three ring circus. And if I'm not mistaken, _you're_ Nico Robin." She scowled. "Now that we've got introductions out of the way, why the hell are you in here?"

Robin looked down at Kuzan, then back up at the doctor. "I needed to see him."

"Well, you've seen. Now scat. You're supposed to be resting, not gallivanting throughout the ship at the crack of dawn."

"Can't I stay in here?" Robin asked.

"Does this look like a hotel?" Malidy said. "I'm a doctor, not a babysitter. This place is reserved for the sick and injured."

"And doctors aren't supposed to smoke in front of patients," Robin retorted.

She took her pipe out of her mouth. "This? It's not lit."

"Please? I'll be quiet and stay out of everyone's way."

Malidy tapped her foot impatiently. "You're not going to go away, are you?" Robin shook her head stubbornly, and the doctor sighed. "Fine. On one condition."

"What?"

"Let me check you out first. I wanted to give you a quick going over before, but that buffoon Thatch wouldn't let me. Said he had just 'settled you down for the night' or some such nonsense."

Robin took a half-step backwards. "What do you mean?"

"I am a _doctor_ ," she said, enunciating each word slowly. "And you have obviously been through an ordeal. It is my sworn duty to make sure you're not bleeding to death internally or something equally inconvenient."

"I'm not hurt."

"And I'm sure your vast wealth of medical expertise helped you reach that conclusion," Malidy said dryly. "That's my ultimatum, kid. It won't even take five minutes."

Frowning, Robin walked over to the woman. With a curt nod, the doctor had her sit on one of the beds. She started with her stethoscope, listening to Robin's heart, lungs, and abdomen. Afterword, she carefully began to poke and prod as she continued her assessment.

"So…" Malidy said, pipe back in her mouth as she gently pressed on Robin's stomach. "You're traveling with the vice admiral, huh? Or ex-vice admiral, I guess."

"Yes," Robin said.

"What's that like?"

"Good," Robin said defensively. "He takes care of me."

"Has he ever made you feel uncomfortable? Touched yo—"

"No!" Robin interrupted, jerking away from the doctor. "Kuzan's a good person. Why do people keep asking me that?!"

Malidy's face was grave. "Because, kid, it's kind of weird for a twenty-something year old man to travel with a ten year old girl he's not related to. Especially when he was in the marines and you have a bounty on your head."

"I'm nine," Robin said automatically.

"The doesn't make it any better." Malidy sighed, and her eyes softened. "You can trust us. If he's taken advantage of you—in any way—Whitebeard will put a stop to it. The old man doesn't stand for that kind of thing."

"But he _hasn't_ ," Robin insisted. "I would have run away if he had. He hasn't wanted weapons, or my bounty, or anything else." She pointed to his prone form. "Do you think he would have done _that_ for me if I was just a thing to him?"

Malidy's eyes flickered to Kuzan, and Robin could almost see the gears turning in her mind. "Point taken." Robin relaxed. "That doesn't mean that the whole thing isn't weird, but I'm willing to concede you are a basically healthy nine year old kid. Except your nose. Whoever set that did a crap job."

"So I can stay?"

"Yeah, I guess, but only if you _rest_. Your body needs more than a few hours of sleep to recover from whatever you've done the last few days."

"Thank you," Robin said as she slid off of the bed. The doctor grumbled something incomprehensible and turned to leave.

Going over to the bed nearest Kuzan, Robin decided to press her luck. Sprouting arms, she pushed the bed as close as she could to Kuzan without getting in the way of all the equipment that he was hooked up to.

"What the hell?" Malidy yelled over the noise of the bed scratching against the wood floor. "What are you doing?!"

"Resting," Robin said as she hopped into the bed, looking up at the doctor with the most innocent look she could conjure. "See?" She snuggled under the covers, surprised at the sudden tiredness that overcame her.

"Oh dear Lord… _Fine_. I'm going back to my office. Don't even _think_ about touching anything. Despite your Doctorate in Smart Ass you are _not_ qualified to meddle with the equipment. Doing so might kill him. Do you understand?" Malidy said, exasperated.

"Yes, ma'am," Robin said through a yawn.

"Good." With a final grumble, the doctor left, leaving Robin and Kuzan alone.

If she reached out, Robin could _just_ grab his hand. She did so, listening as thunder rolled in the distance. A storm was coming.

Robin didn't care. She fell asleep easily, feeling truly safe for the first time she could remember. They had just thwarted the efforts of a warlord and an admiral, and were under the protection of Whitebeard himself. There was probably a steep price to pay for such good fortune, but they were alive, and at the end of the day that was all a criminal could hope for.

* * *

 **AN:** And there you have it. After this the Dynamic Duo spend a little time with Whitebeard while Sakazuki becomes more paranoid by his own inflexible views of the world. They are forced to come to terms with the fact that they actually do like one another, and Whitebeard gives Kuzan a one-to-one chat on what it means to be a father.

Robin and Kuzan then go to Fishman Island to hide while Kuzan fully recovers (I have this chapter written too. Robin meets Otohime and it's adorable, but there's some out of character moments I'm not happy with), setting up the final climax. Robin reads the poneglyph and finds out that the Ancient Weapons are real and not Government propaganda, and she has a bit of an identity crisis. She also learns about the concept of haki (having already been forced to experiment more with her DF because of the dangers of the Grand Line) but doesn't actually unlock it at this point in time.

They go back to the surface and Sakazuki finds out where they are. Sengoku says to wait until they can get a Buster Call to basically nuke them out of existence, but the Red Dog doesn't trust him and goes rogue himself, and a few marines follow him (Jonathan included). Robin runs away from Kuzan because she thinks he'll be safer away from her and her curse.

Sakazuki captures Robin and uses her as bait for Kuzan. When Robin refuses to cooperate he threatens to torture her so that the pain will make it easier for Kuzan to track her via haki. This makes Jonathan uncomfortable and he runs away, finding Kuzan and telling him everything he knows before going back to the marines to face a court martial.

Kuzan and Sakazuki fight, and as per canon Sakazuki has the initial advantage. Kuzan loses an arm, but in a key moment Robin is able distract Sakazuki enough for Kuzan to stab him with a haki-infused ice sword. Robin burns her leg pretty badly, but they're able to escape once more, _**finally**_ accepting one another fully for who they are as they sail off into the sunset, safe and content.

Until the sequel, anyway, but that's a story for another time.

 **AN II:** Good grief what a behemoth of a chapter. I forgot how long this was. And look, it's Dr. Malidy again. I bet she and Kureha got along with one another wonderfully on Drum. Also, this was written before I realized Marco's verbal tick was A Thing, and I didn't feel like going back and changing it-yoi.

Looking back, I'm impressed and a little sad by how much work I put into something only not to ever officially start it. There's a lesson in there somewhere, or maybe just a warning. At least this got posted, and one of the interludes between Garp and Sengoku was retooled into chapter 14 of _Sea Shanties (_ originally Sengoku wanted Garp to go with Sakazuki after Kuzan deserted, but Garp - being opposed to the Buster Call from the beginning - refused, forcing Sengoku to go instead)

And for those who have ready my fic _For Want of a Nail_ , this was originally going to be Robin's nail in that AU-verse, with Mizuira appearing in the sequel that takes place when Robin is sixteen-ish years old. I've got a few chapters written up for that, too, but it's more fractured and has since been cannibalized into other stories that are currently in progress.

Basically I've got like a zillion epic AU stories in my head and I suck at piecing them together into a coherent whole. One shots are so much easier to manage.


	9. A Day in the Life of a Cook

**Summary** : The Straw Hat Pirates had no idea how much work it took to feed them, and Sanji was determined to keep it that way  
 **Rating** : T for potty-mouth Sanji  
 **Timeframe** : Between Thriller Bark and Saboady  
 **Head Canon** : Sanji loves to cook, and Luffy loves listening to him fanboy (a mild oversimplification, see below for full head canon, requested by vixbee)

 **AN** : Tried to flex my writing muscles by using a little bit of a different style. Let me know what you guys think

* * *

 _Food is our common ground_

-James Beard

* * *

 _4:57 AM_

His day begins before everyone else's.

It's a little before five in the morning as Sanji adjusts his tie. The reflection in the mirror glowers irritably back at him. A cigarette will change that, but not until he gets out of the men's quarters. The weather had been unpredictable even by Grand Line standards as of late, and Nami-dearest said they should be reaching an island later in the day. The others need their rest, and Chopper especially is sensitive to the smell of smoke.

Sanji passes Brook on his way out the door. He and the skeleton share a sleep schedule for the most part, and they exchange tired nods. It's too damn early for greetings. God what he wouldn't do for another hour or two of sleep…

His hands go instinctively to his pocket. It's been a long time since they've been on dry ground, and he's running low on smokes. He'll have to conserve if he wants to make it through the morning, but that doesn't stop him from lighting up as he leans over the railing, mentally reviewing the day's menu. If they were going to hit land then it would be best to have an early lunch. Something light. Sanji knew most of the crew—himself included—liked to sample the local cuisine on the islands they visit, so it wouldn't do to be overfull.

He had to do something big for supper, then. Sanji flicks ash off the end of his cigarette as he ponders. His inventory isn't _bad_ , but he doesn't think he has enough for a Luffy-sized feast. He'd have to squeeze some grocery shopping in with his sightseeing.

 _6:35 AM_

The Straw Hat Pirates wake to the smell of bacon. Luffy can barely contain himself long enough to put on a fresh pair of underpants before he's launching himself into the kitchen. He's greeted with a black shoe to the face.

"Out," Sanji barks, as he does every morning.

"But I'm hungry!"

"You're always hungry," Sanji says, but hands him two apples anyway.

"This isn't real food," Luffy whines. "I want bacon!"

The Straw Hat's resident cook sighs, swallowing arguments about balanced nutrition and going straight for the time-honored tradition of kicking his captain's ass back onto the deck. He captures a glimpse of the shitty moss head in the middle of a workout before he slams the door shut again.

It's not that Sanji is jealous—because why would he be jealous of an ape growing grass from his head?— but at times he wished there were more hours in the day so he, too, could dedicate himself to honing the martial art he was best known for.

 _7:00 AM_

"It's sweet," Chopper says, his already-wide eyes expanding further than should be humanly possible. The youngest Straw Hat takes another bite of bacon and wiggles with pleasure. "I've never had bacon that's sweet before!"

Sanji opens his mouth to explain the process of making candied bacon when Robin asks for another cup of coffee. He rushes to do her bidding while passionately pledging to walk to the ends of the earth to fulfill her every desire, and after that the moment is lost. Everyone's too busy protecting their plates from their gluttonous captain to listen to how their breakfast came to be.

Despite his appetite it's not Luffy's favorite, but Sanji knew that before he started prepping for the meal. Luffy was quite vocal about having his meat taste like meat, damn it, and anything else was a travesty. But with eight other people in the crew Sanji couldn't cater every meal to the incredibly unrefined palate of his captain, and it _had_ been a long time since he'd made anything especially for Chopper…

The doctor reaches for thirds, and Sanji can't help but smile.

 _10:14 AM_

After breakfast comes clean-up, and after clean-up comes lists. More specifically, grocery lists. At ten o'clock Nami finds Sanji sitting at the galley table snubbing a cigarette into an overflowing ashtray as he scratches out another line on the piece of parchment that lays in front of him. With a muttered curse he squeezes something into what little space remains on the page.

"How's it going?" Nami asks.

"Fucking terrible." His hand makes a movement to his breast pocket, as if going for another cigarette, but it stops. He whirls so quickly he almost knocks his chair over. "Nami-dearest! I'm so sorry, I didn't realize it was you."

Nami laughs, and he would have sworn it was the most beautiful sound in the world. "What's your budget looking like? I think we should land a little after noon, and I was getting allowances ready."

Sanji's stomach curls a little as she picks up his list. As expected, all the laughter leaves the resplendent jewels that are her eyes, a crease forming in her alabaster brow.

"Barunium cream? You want to buy three cartons of real Barunium cream? Do you know how much that stuff costs?"

"Y-yes, my sweet," he says with unusual timidly.

"Sanji, I know you need quality ingredients, but that stuff alone will double what I usually give you."

His shoulders slump. He won't— _can't_ —argue with her. Nami, multitalented as she is, can cook, but she is not a chef. And while he also knows that she hasn't forgotten Usopp's upcoming birthday, Nami wasn't aware that Sanji spent two weeks developing a cake recipe he's sure their resident sharpshooter will _love_. He needs that cream. There was no substitute, just like Nami settled for nothing less than the best papers and inks to make her maps.

It's expensive, and damn it all if Sanji didn't know that already. He spent ten years of his life living in a restaurant, and Zeff taught him more than how to gut a fish. Most places closed their doors after less than a year, and being out on the open sea the _Baratie_ ran into more expenses than most. But somehow it's different here. _Harder_. Sanji never knows how much money he's going to get or how far he'll have to stretch his larder. He is responsible for the health and wellbeing of eight other people, and though Luffy is the worst of them all _none_ of them are light eaters.

Nami must sense his misery, because her expression softens. "I'll give you twenty-five percent more than usual. Usopp and Luffy have been fishing recently anyway, so it's not like you'll need a lot of meat."

There is always the need for more meat, but Sanji doesn't contradict her. He's too busy gushing her praises to notice.

 _1:30 PM_

The island is small, a mere pit stop between the more famous Water 7 and Fishman Island, but no less interesting because of it. The little town the Straw Hat Pirates visit has _character_ , and as Sanji walks down the cobblestone streets he tries his damndist to soak it all in.

He's doubly blessed when Nami and Robin decide to accompany him, at least for the time being. Robin—wise, mature, worldly—notes almost immediately that the clothing stores that interested the women were located near the farmer's market that Sanji so desperately needs to visit.

For such company, he's willing to delay his trip to the tobacco outlet, although he nearly strangles his captain when Luffy decides to tag along as the fourth wheel. His attempt to foist the straw-hatted fool on Franky is foiled by the lure of food, even though the cyborg's trip to the junkyard holds the promise of childish adventure that Luffy so often craves.

Instead it is Usopp who accompanies Franky, while Brook makes sure Zoro actually gets it to the swordsmith. Chopper is low on rumble balls and volunteers to stand watch over the ship, and it's a sign to how far he's come that no one doubts his ability to do so.

The day is crisp and clear, the sky a bright blue without a cloud in sight. Sanji saunters between the two female Straw Hats with his hands in his pockets while blocking out the obnoxious noise his captain's making, pretending it's just Nami, Robin, and himself on an afternoon stroll through the city, when he smells it: _beef, poultry, fish. Fresh-baked bread and a dozen different spices. The sweet tang of ripe fruit and the sharp brine of saltwater._

 _Food._

Though Sanji knows he's eaten and not hungry, an old, dormant monster roars in his belly. His mouth fills with saliva, and immediately he's reaching for a cigarette. It's his last, but Sanji doesn't care. He won't lose his composure. Not today when he's graced by the presence of his two beloved angels.

He takes a deep drag, and almost immediately the nicotine dulls the edge, and he's able to grin at some macabre comment his Robin-darling deems worth sharing. Sanji took up smoking at a young age first to look like an adult, then to help deal with the stress of the kitchen, only to find out years later that cigarettes also suppress the appetite.

Not that he _needs_ the help. Not anymore. Long gone were the days of hoarding food, the instinct to eat as much as he could as quickly as he could as often as he could, the primal fear of starvation. But every once in a while it…it sneaks up on him. Catches him by surprise and brings up the nightmare that lasted for more than eighty days that manages to haunt him even now.

Cigarettes dull his sense taste and stop up his lungs with tar and smoke, but they also help, and he has no intention of stopping anytime soon.

 _1:42 PM_

"Ooh…what are _those?"_

Sanji looks up from the vegetable stall and searches for his captain. He is both on a mission and a limited budget and is ready to spring into action to keep Luffy from spoiling either. Luckily Robin also hears the danger and with the help of an arm or three manages to prevent one of the most notorious rookies in the world from stuffing his face full of meat pie.

 _Meat pie_. Sometimes Sanji can't believe that's the sort of idiot he chose to follow.

"Go ahead and try one," the pie saleswoman says, eyes twinkling like a thousand stars on a moonless night. "Free samples today only!"

"Did someone say free samples?" Nami-dearest asks while Luffy grabs two of the savory treats.

"Yep! My shop's opening tomorrow, so I wanted to give everyone a little taste of what they're missing out on," the woman explains, handing a pie to both Nami and Robin while _also_ managing to deftly slap Luffy away from thirds. Sanji's already-enormous respect for her grows.

Robin takes a polite nibble, and her eyes grow a fraction of an inch. "It's quite good."

"No kidding," Nami agrees, chewing thoughtfully. "It's different than what I'm used to. Good, but different."

The challenge couldn't have rung clearer had Nami outright said they were the best meat pies she'd ever tasted. Abandoning the vegetables for the time being, Sanji saunters over and gives the food an appraising glance. The stall is clean, well put together and aesthetically pleasing. The woman offers him a winning smile that almost turns him into mush and hands him a pie.

It's still warm and the crust has the exact perfect amount of flakiness. The other Straw Hats watch as Sanji takes a bite, and flavor explodes in the cook's mouth. He's eaten his fair share of meat pies over the years, but none have tasted like this.

"Sage," Sanji says, his eyes narrowing in concentration. "And…cloves? Where did you learn to put spices in like this?"

"You know your stuff," the woman says, two spots of pink forming on her cheekbones. "And that's a trade secret."

"You can tell Sanji," Luffy says. "We're just pirates."

"What the numbskull means to say," Nami interjects as the pie woman pales, "is that we're just passing through. We're not competition."

Sanji is too distracted to notice the woman's relief. He's too busy trying to figure out how she managed to elevate a pedestrian, workman's food into something almost divine. "I never would have thought to season the meat like this," he muses to nobody in particular.

"It's like Alabasta's meat," Luffy says. Somehow in all the discussion he manages to sneak another pie and is chewing with his mouth open.

"That's it exactly!" Sanji exclaims. "The flavor profiles are almost exactly the same to beef dish Terracotta served during the third course the day after the rebellion."

"I don't remember that one," Luffy says.

"You were unconscious still," Sanji says dismissively. He turns his attention to the woman selling the pies. "Did you import your spices all the way from Alabasta?" he asks as forcefully as possible without actually demanding an answer.

Her eyebrows rise in surprise. "Well, actually…" she launches into a longwinded story of how she moved to this piece of shit island shortly after the drought started. Sanji listens intently as she described in almost painful detail how the local spices were simply nothing like the ones back home, and how a plea to her brother back at the capital eventually led to her opening her own business selling the food she loved. The tale naturally evolved into a heated discussion comparing the quality of spices across the various islands of the Grand Line, and the next time Sanji looked up more than an hour had passed and Nami and Robin where nowhere to be seen.

"They decided you were going to take a while and left to go shopping," Luffy says with a shrug when Sanji asks. "Dunno why. That lady was way more interesting than clothes."

And if Sanji noticed the woman had no more complimentary pies after their discussion, he had the decency not to mention it.

 _6:59 PM_

Supper is almost late. Sanji's talk put him behind schedule and he barely finished his shopping when it was time to return to the ship. There was no time to buy cigarettes, and by the time he sets the table he's going on six hours without a smoke.

Wine for Robin-dearest. Lemonade for Nami-sweet. Milk for Brook, cola for Franky, saki for the coniferous ape, juice for Chopper, rum for Usopp and Luffy, and black tea for himself. Sanji curses up a storm as he plates the meal: spicy shrimp pasta with a white wine sauce. It's one of Sanji's specialties and a crew favorite, but he's almost _late_ , an almost unheard of notion when there's been no foul weather and no shitty marines to bump him off schedule.

"What's the hold up, Curly Brow?" Zoro asks as the crew saunters into the galley.

"Shut up, shit head," Sanji snaps back without breaking his rhythm. Each step is calculated and graceful, looking more like a dance than the mad rush it truly was to make sure his crew was happy and full. Luffy laughs and says that he's hungry, and maybe it's the lack of nicotine, but it bothers Sanji more than usual.

But he doesn't argue. Not when it comes to food. If his captain says that he's hungry, it is Sanji's duty to make sure he's fed. Food was the sacred, almost mystical thing that brought the Straw Hat Pirates together as one after a long day scattered among the four winds. Usopp is too busy telling Chopper some ridiculous lie about the junkyard to notice when Sanji serves his plate, Brook and Luffy too deep into a competition to see who could stick their chopsticks further up their nose (although, Brook didn't technically have a nose…). Nami and Franky were arguing about the best way to get to Fishman Island while Robin mediated, and Zoro…Zoro was drinking.

But then all at once, as if by magic, they were eating, with Sanji rushing back and forth for drinks or seconds or dessert or whatever it took to keep them happy for this short period of time, because more than anything else in the world, _that_ was what Sanji lived for.

 _12:00 AM_

His day ends after everybody else's.

Sanji loosens his tie as the clock strikes twelve. Another day is gone, and what he wouldn't do for a smoke. It's another two days until the log sets, so barring bad fortune or unforeseen circumstances there is still time to buy more, but that does little to help him now. Slumping down into his hammock, he tries to keep his fingers from twitching and his toes from tapping. He's almost lost without the controlled insanity of the kitchen. There's the feeling that he should be doing something, _anything_ to prepare for tomorrow, next week, next month…

"San'i?" There's no mistaking Luffy's sleepy murmur, and instantly Sanji's on the alert, ready to make a midnight sack for his captain.

"Yeah? What do you want?"

"Nothin'. Just wanted to let you know I found this tryin' to break into the fridge."

Sanji barely has time to register the sound of something flying through the air when a small box smacks him right between the eyes. His curse is cut short when his fumbling hands wrap around the contours of the package of cigarettes.

"Thank you, God," Sanji breathes as he bolts upright, ready to run out to the deck once more.

"An' Sanji?" Luffy calls.

"Yes?"

"I like your pie crust better. That lady didn't have enough butter in hers. Can you make meat pie tomorrow?"

Sanji smiles, surprised yet somehow unsurprised that Luffy would notice a stupid little thing like that.

"Of course, Captain."

* * *

 **AN** : You guys have no idea how much I had to go back and edit what tense I was writing in. Pretty sure I missed a bunch anyway, but I kind of like how it flows.

Since I know very little about cooking, I had to do a little more research for this chapter than normal. The meat pie thing was taken from an article describing the difference between a specific kind of Zimbabwean meat pie and popular street food that's apparently superior to its European cousin (not being a consumer of meat pies of any origin, I wouldn't know the difference). From what I read, being a chef actually sucks a lot and has a high burnout rate unless the chef can somehow maintain a grip on their passion for food.

Which actually explains a lot about Sanji, now that I think about it.

And here's vixbee's original prompt, which once again I had to tinker with to make the story flow, "When Sanji goes and gets new spices and/or other ingredients he always strikes up a conversation with the seller/cook/chef and they begin a 'chef-talk' that leaves everybody else absolutely confused because they can't understand him all that well, except for Luffy who has a surprising grasp of the conversation. I feel like Sanji would be so immersed in these kinds of conversations that he loses his surroundings and, while not ignoring Nami and Robin, leaves the girls to their own selves in a way he normally wouldn't. I feel like these conversations will end up giving him new recipes to try and make him want to cook even more - much to Luffy's joy.

"Also: I feel like Luffy is often in the kitchen, not only to steal food, but to watch Sanji cook, because he hasn't ever really seen food being cooked with such care. He's always in awe by it and Sanji's super proud that he can keep his captain's attention and remembers everything, which is why Luffy can understand Sanji's 'chef-talk' and others can't"

The only thing I would add is that if Luffy knows any 'cooking theory', recent canon has proven that he can't actually cook worth a damn. Probably his ADD preventing him from putting the individual pieces of knowledge together and his questionable reading skills keeping him from actually looking at the recipe before trying to prepare something. I'm getting this mental image of the crew making cookies together and Sanji trying to oversee Luffy so he doesn't screw everything up, and I dare someone to write a fic about that, because it would be adorable and super fun and fluffy (which, seeing how the manga is going, Sanji definitely needs).

Thanks for reading. Until next time!


	10. Idiosyncrasies

**Summary:** Everyone has their quirks  
 **Rating** : K+  
 **Head Canon** : Several. Some mine, others I've seen floating around

 **AN** : Great inspiration was taken from MadRabbit's fic _Little Things._ It's short, but so, so good. Go read it if you haven't.

* * *

Some called Zoro an uncultured baboon, and most days they weren't too far off. He trained, he slept, and he drank like a fish, and…well, most of the time there wasn't much else. He was strong enough that Nami understood why Luffy kept him around, but meat shields were a berry a dozen and she saw no reason to get particularly attached to this one.

But when Zoro kept Nami from being duped on some knock-off calligraphy at Logue Town—not that she would ever admit to being duped—with only a muttered "wrong stroke order" by way of explanation, she was forced to reevaluate her original assessment. A little digging revealed that Zoro learned a whole lot more than how to swing a sword at his old dojo. The great lump was a properly trained swordsman, with all that entailed. The only thing stopping him from acting like it was a complete lack of interest.

Nami tucked this tidbit away in the back of her mind, while subtracting a few thousand berries off of his debt. Loathe as she was to admit it, he'd saved her a little money and a lot of embarrassment, and that wasn't something she'd easily forget.

~x~

For an unashamed pervert, Sanji kept a whole lot of books on fairy tales.

For the longest time, Usopp couldn't wrap his head around it. Yes, the sentiment was undercut somewhat by his collection of dirty magazines, but still, fairy tales? Even the Great Captain Usopp, best storyteller on the five seas, hadn't brought _fairy tales_ with him to the Grand Line.

It was easy to see how he projected himself as the knight in shining armor, but during Enies Lobby when he challenged Usopp to do what the rest of the Straw Hat's couldn't there was something in Sanji's tone that made Usopp think that the love-sick love-cook _knew_ what he was thinking. All the self-deprecation, the questioning of his worth and place within the group, the struggle to find his strength…Sanji understood it all.

And maybe it took a storyteller to see it, but for all his bluff and bluster there was a part of Sanji that wanted to be saved, too, and Usopp wondered it was possible to be the knight in someone else's story while still being the damsel in distress in your own.

~x~

It was no secret that Robin never went anywhere without her notebook and pencil, ready to write down interesting bits of history or macabre trivia at a moment's notice. General consensus throughout the crew was that she wrote out her notes in an unbreakable code, after a strike team consisting of Usopp, Luffy, and Chopper risked life and death to satisfy their (Usopp's) curiosity by raiding the women's quarters in search of answers.

Chopper always felt the tiniest bit guilty about his part in the proceedings. He always had the feeling that Robin knew what they'd done, but the mysterious archeologist never said a word against them. Maybe that was the reason why he never let on that while Robin's handwriting was nearly illegible, it was still written in the common tongue.

Doctorine always said that the terrible penmanship doctors were known for only developed when the mind began moving too fast for the body to keep up with. It made sense to Chopper, then, that Robin—whose esoteric and vast repository of knowledge was worth several doctorates by itself—would have the worst handwriting that he'd ever seen.

~x~

Everyone knew Brook wrote music. Many of his original songs were instrumentals for the violin or the piano, but during his rise in popularity as the Soul King he began expiramenting with lyrics as well. Even Zoro could admit that his rock ballads were pretty catchy, though when the skeleton's electric guitar disturbed his naps Zoro had to stop himself from wringing Brook's non-existent neck.

And really, what was a song if not poetry put to music? It wasn't much of a stretch that Brook's interest would expand to include rhythm and meter of the written word. The constant stream of puns more than proved how much he enjoyed playing with words.

It was unfortunate that the same love of terrible jokes translated into equally terrible poetry. Still, even Zoro had to admit that his limerick about Nami was pretty funny, and no matter how many times she smacked him upside the head, Zoro refused to tell her where he'd first heard it.

~x~

Franky did not cry. This undisputed, oft-repeated maxim was well known amongst the Straw Hat Pirates. Any tears that dripped down the cyborg's cheeks were triggered by tangerine pollen, dust, reindeer fur, or something equally inconvenient. To say otherwise was to risk a Heavy Left to the skull.

No, Franky was a man's man. He built weapons strong enough to defeat sea kings and chugged cola by the gallon. He did _not_ indulge in bubble baths or cheesy romance novels after a long day of work, _especially_ not at the same time.

When a surprise marine attack forced Franky out of the bath so quickly he barely had time to put on his speedo and caused enough damage to the rigging to necessitate immediate and time-consuming repairs, it was Brook who silently drained the tub and returned the well-worn book back to its original hiding place.

It wasn't his place to judge, but the old musician wished there was a way he could tell Franky that no one would care one way or another, and that life was far too short to hide from what one truly enjoyed.

~x~

When she first joined the Straw Hat Pirates, the one crewmember that intrigued Robin wasn't the simple-minded captain, the human-reindeer doctor, the teen genius navigator, or even the surly swordsman. No, it was the long-nosed sniper that fascinated her, and her confusion only grew as time passed. He was seemingly weak compared to the rest, a self-serving coward whose goals in no way aligned with Monkey D. Luffy's. Where, in this complex puzzle that were the Straw Hats, did he fit?

He was different than the rest, more creative, more sensitive, more—dare she say it?— _normal_. At first glance Usopp was a boy playing pirate, the odd man out in a crew of monsters and geniuses.

On her birthday (her first since finding her family), he presented her with a book. This wasn't so unusual, if not for the timing. Usopp made sure he found Robin during a quiet moment, alone, before nervously presenting her with her gift.

There was no showboating. There were no lies. There was only a collection of Oharan myths, hand bound in a handsome leather cover, illustrated with ink sketches that mimicked the engravings she remembered from her childhood books.

And at that moment, Robin understood.

~x~

To say Chopper was young was something of an understatement. There were times, especially when around Usopp, when he was so damn jumpy and nervous it was hard to tell if he were a reindeer or a mouse afraid of his own shadow.

Still, Sanji had to admit he came through in a pinch, and if there was one time he was never, _ever_ afraid it was when he was tending to the sick and wounded. It was his element, what he was born to do, and damn it all if he didn't do a good job.

So it was curious when after Enies Lobby Chopper fussed over Sanji's wounds more than usual. He treated the claw and bite marks left by that asshole of a CP9 agent in a way that was almost _timid,_ wrapping and rewrapping bandages, even venturing so far as to ask Sanji if he could test him for rabies.

Sanji knew that Chopper knew that no Government agent would be allowed to go around rabid, although if they were it would explain some of their more shitty behavior. It wasn't until a moment of sublime clarity that the it clicked: Chopper was afraid of wolves.

It made sense in a way. Wolves were natural predators for humans and reindeer both, and though Chopper would never admit it there was a part of him that still held to his base animal instinct.

In the end Sanji let the little guy run his tests without protesting. They all had their demons, and if Chopper's fear led him to be an even better doctor than he already was, who was he to argue?

~x~

The helm of the _Sunny_ wasn't really meant for sitting, and after setting sail with the Straw Hats that was the one aspect of his otherwise _super_ ship that irritated Franky. Had he known how much love Luffy held for his favorite spot, he would have gone out of his way to make a figurehead that stuck out a little farther, or at least installed a fancy chair, complete with seat belt. Luffy didn't mind, but that was probably because he had no idea what he was missing out on.

No one knew for sure why a hammer like Luffy would sit in such an obviously dangerous spot, but Franky could guess. His captain was a runner and a gunner, who despite how much he got beaten up by his own crew was very much in charge of it.

Wherever the Straw Hat Pirates went, Luffy wanted to be the first one to see it, the first one to step on it, the first one to experience it. After all, the only way to protect those who were behind you was to remain one step ahead, and there was no one but the Straw Hat Pirates Luffy would trust to defend his back.

~x~

Whether Luffy was utterly clueless or only took the time to notice the important things was up for debate. The same man who recognized the similarity between the Sun Pirate's mark and the Hoof of the Soaring Dragon was the same man who regularly forgot that jumping after drowning crewmates only doubled the number of crewmates who were drowning.

But whether clinically idiotic or a brilliant savant, Luffy noticed when his friends were upset, and he noticed the moment Nami noticed the amusement park at Saboady that she was upset. He didn't know why, and it wasn't until the events on Fishman Island that the correlation between the archipelago and Arlong Park was made clear.

He didn't have to know those things to see when his navigator went unnaturally quiet and still, her eyes clouding over with trouble that made him both angry and powerless at the same time. He hated seeing that look in his friends, and would have done anything in the world to make it go away.

So he did, in his unique Luffy way. With a childish laugh of glee, he pointed to the amusement park. "It looks fun! Can we go?" he asked, giving Nami the power to choose for herself what she wanted.

"I've never been to an amusement park before," she mused, and there's hidden meaning in those words, but Luffy doesn't care about that. All he cares about is making his navigator happy.

"So let's go!" he shouted, and Nami only shook her head in exasperation.

In the end she decides to go shopping with Robin, but that's okay, because the fire is back in her eyes and each step is done with purpose. Luffy noticed, like he always noticed, and his grin stretches a little big larger before bounding off towards his newest adventure.

* * *

 **AN:** Hello all! I know it's been awhile since I've posted something for this, and rest assured I have a couple other chapters with submitted head canons in progress. In the meantime, tell me what you think of this one. I vaguely remember reading a fic (one shot?) where Zoro saved the crew during a Davy Fight Back through his knowledge of traditional samurai skills, including calligraphy. Plus Oda's drawn him with ink and brush at least once for a cover, so it's definitely something I could get behind.

Also, for some reason I can see Brook getting _really_ into limericks. Could you imagine how corny that would be? As a bonus, here's the one Zoro referenced in his section:

 _There once was a navigator named Nami  
On whom I peeped once but she saw me  
I took a kick to the face  
But saw her panties were lace  
And now of her bra I must make inquiry _


End file.
